


Mouths to Feed

by idreamedit_sobeit



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Broke Lance, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sugar Baby, Sugar Daddy AU, Sugar Daddy Keith (Voltron), Sugar Daddy Shiro (Voltron), Sugar baby Lance, all are consenting of age adults, businessman keith, but shhhh its enjoyable, but the build up is there, cliche stereotypical college sugar baby au, evolves to shklance, loans, not rlly slow burn, shklance - Freeform, side sheith, starts as klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 21:34:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16127180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idreamedit_sobeit/pseuds/idreamedit_sobeit
Summary: Lance has got lots and lots of dreams. He wants to buy his mom a house, take his siblings on vacations, and be a pilot! Lance just wants a good life. And to get that "good life", Lance is willing to take it in exchange for a few years of hell. How bad could college be?Getting to that perfect life meant he had to make a few sacrifices. Or take out a few loans. Three to be exact.  One from his "uncle" Coran, another from a student bank that was collecting interest quickly, and one from a... less than forgiving loan shark.Unfortunately for Lance, his part-time job at The Castle Diner wasn't going to cover the bills. Fortunately for Lance, he knows a little dirty secret spot in the city where he can find desperate old men willing to throw cash his way (without him doing any dirty work).Life is simple. Rough, but simple for Lance. That was until he stumbled upon the mysterious, and slightly too edgy, Keith one night. Lance is drawn into Keith's life and quickly soon after Shiro's. Although all seems well at first Lance quickly realizes there may be more than meets the eye when it comes to the two men. Some things are too good to be true, but is it all worth it?





	1. Meet Lance (and his friends)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.Trigger Warnings as well as new tags that may be added for each chapter will go up here.
> 
> 2.There may be spelling errors and junk, feel free to point them out lol
> 
> Other mumbo: I would firstly like to say that this may glamorize sugar babying! I tried my best to educate myself and make it accurate HOWEVER some limits had to be pushed for fiction. Please don't think babying is as simple as this y'all, I don't want to be responsible for misinformation. This is fictional and fun, but 90% of the time I'm certain it doesn't work out this way.

Lance poured his second cup of coffee that morning. He figured it would be enough to last him over until his morning shift was over, which began in a half hour. At 6 AM. Lance sat on his living room floor throwing back his second coffee of the day since he woke up a half hour ago. _This is fine,_ he convinced himself finishing off his toast.

 _Fine_ became his norm. It was _fine_ that his shoes had holes in them. It was _fine_ that the power in his shit hole apartment ocassionally would go out for no reason. It was _fine_ that he sometimes had one meal of 99 cent ramen a day. Feeling his pulse through his eyelids and vibration through his veins from the caffeine, Lance figured this was the most _fine_ he could feel for the day.

Lance stood and brushed off the crumbs covering his orange work shirt. The general thrum coursing through out his body made him almost want to look decent and throw together a cute outfit for the day. But the traffic cone orange diner shirt is something no one could pull off. Not even himself. Lance instead sticks with what he already has on, his work shirt layered over a blue long sleeve, since it was chilly, and some plain jeans. _Bleh._

Stretching out his legs Lance could feel the ache of exhaustion underneath the caffeinated energy. Scooping up his backpack he ran through his mental checklist. Satisfied, he locked up and headed out for a long day.

Lance jogged down the steps of his apartment glad to be out of the hallways that always seemed to smell of cat piss. Lance made a left at the nearest intersection and walked the path that he so often did. It was shocking what difference a couple of blocks could make. Lance’s apartment was located in the least pleasant of areas. Often there were police cars parked outside homes or random people shouting in the early hours of the night. One or two drivebys if Lance remembers correctly. He lived in the shit side of this neighborhood, no denying it. But rent was fairly cheap and it was till relatively close to his family and work. He’ll take what he can get

Since work wasn’t far, and definitely not worth the bus fare there, Lance made the 20 minute walk from his apartment everyday. He didn’t mind walking anyways, it got him out, enjoying the air. Even in the bitter temperatures of the winter Lance and his wallet preferred the walk. Cracked pavements turned smooth, abandoned buildings with overgrown lawns turned to well kept homes. Lance was down the street from The Castle in no time. The orange and blue neon sign buzzed, the parking lot was fairly empty and Lance could faintly here some tunes as he approached the diner’s door. A typical morning. Lance entered the diner with the soft _ding-ding_ of the bell. It already smelt of breakfast. _Delicious._

Lance was engulfed with a familiar warmth. The orange tiles, tables, and counters comforted Lance in a way. The slightly harsh light and thoroughly polished stools were common ground for him.

“Lance my boy,” Coran beamed from across the diner. He was wiping up some tables and setting them for the day. “I made you some eggs! They’re going to get cold, so eat up.” Coran went back to cleaning off the tables.

 

Morning shifts weren’t bad. They could be the busiest but they were calm. It was all transport truck drivers passing by town or retirees. Lance was seating a gentleman at the bar, he was a little rough looking with a scar but dressed business casual, when the front door opened again and Allura strolled in. Allura radiated “I’ve got my shit together vibes” in her clothing. No matter how early it was that girl would not be caught dead in sweatpants. She shrugged off her cream colored knit sweater, one Lance recognized from one of their many mall visits, and folded it over her arms.

“An order of 2 piece toast, white, and eggs, sunny side up. With a cup of coffee, one cream no sugar, coming right up sir,” With curt nod from the man Lance shoved his notepad in his light blue apron pocket turning to go behind the bar. He slid the order through the kitchen window. “I’ll be with you in a second ma’am!” Lance snickered at Allura. She smirked crossing her way over to the bar taking an empty stool, her heeled flats made the faintest clicking noise.

“Get me an espresso and I’ll make it worth your while sweet stuff,” Allura said coyly leaning on her elbows across the bar.

“Hmm? Like what?” Lance played along pouring a cup of coffee. He added the cream and stirred quickly. Sliding the cup to Coran gesturing to the gentleman across the bar, Coran takes it with a nod.

“How about my chauffeuring services every morning to class?” As Coran passed by with the coffee he poked at her shoulders making her giggle.

“You make an enticing offer stud,” Lance polished off a tiny espresso cup before placing it under the machine as it whirred to life. He turned back to her rest his weight against the edge of the bar. “Speaking of which, I don’t need a ride home today. I’m gonna go hang with Hunk and Pidge at her place. Want to come?”

Allura leaned onto one arm, “You three will be playing Smash all night. I’ll sit out of this bro-night.”

“Bro time? Pidge is a girl, you know that right?” Lance chuckled. He turned to pick up Allura’s finished espresso and gently placed it in front of her.

“I know… but you guys hang out differently. Just hanging and playing games. It’s just not for me.” Lance frowned slightly at that. “It’s your guys’ time. Like we wouldn’t invite them to spa night. That’s our bonding time and game night is their bonding time with you.” Allura sipped her espresso, a certain air of elegance to her. Like she was a well polished politician who could speak and not even hesitate about revealing incriminating information about herself. Lance smiled and admired how well she could articulate herself. He couldn’t do that.  He’d fumble his words and end up upsetting someone.

“Very true. Pidge would never let me put a face mask on her.” Allura choked on the last of her drink. Lance chuckled along untying his apron, his shift was done and now it was off to class. _Fun_. Lance swapped out his apron for his backpack underneath the bar.

“Croissants for the road!” Coran extended two plastic baggies, a croissant each in them, into Allura’s arms. Allura smiled and wrapped her arms around the older man.

“Thank you! I’ll see you tonight for the dinner shift, I’ll take late night too,” She quickly pressed a kiss to his cheek before walking out the door Lance was holding open. Lance waved to Coran before following her out the door.

Lance swung open the passenger side of Allura’s white Honda Jazz slotting in comfortably, seat perfectly adjusted for his long legs. Allura jabbed the key into the ignition and the car came alive. Lance quickly yanked off his orange work shirt, now covered in various stains, and shoved it into his backpack by his feet. Leaving him a simple black long sleeve top. Lance pulled down the visor and leaned back in his seat to roll his head towards Allura as she backed out. “Mom still pissed?”

Allura scoffed slightly, “When is she not.” She exited the parking lot, driving down side streets to make it to the main road. “She still isn’t talking to my father if that’s what you mean.” Allura’s parents had been separated for quite some time, a majority of Allura’s adolescence. However recently Alfor had _really_ fucked up. Something about how ‘trying to have a conversation with her was pointless’. Allura’s mom did not take that well. For the last 4 months, the only type of communication Alfor had with her were passive aggressive messages delivered through Allura.

“She wants me to tell him that ‘If Allura wants to wear those shorts she can. She is a grown adult and I bought them for her. They are perfectly fine shorts.’” Allura mimed her moms assertive voice with just enough scowl

Lance laughed, head thrown back a little. Alfor was a bit controlling, the overbearing parent. Lance could see where her mother was coming from, “She has a point though.” Alfor did need to loosen up.

“Oh yeah,” Allura groaned because of course, she knows. She lives with him. She could move out but she feels obligated to stay with her father. He had been her main care provider when the divorce first happened. Her mother was very busy with work and generally very distant with her daughter. Even though Alfor was over protective, Allura much preferred that over an emotionally unavailable parent. Alfor, despite being the owner of a well known pharmaceutical company, made the effort to be as involved as possible. Perhaps he’s compensating. “He’s gonna have to learn to let go…”

“He has good intentions. But he-”

“But he still thinks I’m 5!” Both Allura and Lance snorted. It was true. If it was Alfor’s way Allura would stay home all day and wear pigtails and knee high socks. And not the cute kind.

“He still pushing for you to switch classes?” Lance questioned. Allura rolled her eyes, kissed her teeth and nodded her head. Allura made a turn, slowing down to let a pedestrian Jay-Walk, which was weird since this neighborhood was typically empty.

“Yup.” Alfor really wanted Allura to be a doctor. She shot that down very early on. There was no way in hell Allura was going to lose her life to medical school. Desperately, he was tried to recommend anything in regards to medicine. He’d even settle for _something_ science related. It was all bust. Truth be told Allura didn’t know what she wanted to do or what career she wanted.

“He’s lucky I even enrolled in classes at all,” Allura said to herself mostly.

Allura and Lance both went to Garrison, school of science. Lance went because of their top physic professors and in hopes of getting his foot in the door at the only piloting school in the state. And, well, Allura went to Garrison because her best friend went there and she wanted to make her dad happy. She was taking a few classes and wasn’t really looking for a degree.

“I mean I know I should go. I have all the means to…” She trailed off as she focused on the road, but her mind was on other things. “I just don’t know what. I don’t want to waste it on something I’ll eventually end up hating.”

Lance quipped, “You don’t have to. You can pursue whatever you want. If you need a degree then go get it. If you don’t, move onto the next step. You also have The Castle”. He’s been explaining this to Allura for months.

“I know, I know. It’s just…” She paused, carefully picking her words. “I don’t want to be _that_ trust bond baby. I want to work. Not just be handed a shit ton of money. I have a lot of things handed to me and I think it would be… it would be ignorant of me if I didn’t try and work hard. I already have a safety net so I should try. And anything can happen! Who knows! Maybe I drop out of college and my dad disowns me. 30 years from now the The Castle could burn down and I’d have nothing to my name. I’d just be a some bummy middle aged moron with no education and money I have no clue what to do with.”

Lance contemplated what she said even, though they have had this conversation on more than one occasion. Lance did understand where she was coming from. Allura had always been a hard worker. Captain of many sports teams, student council president in high school, hell she even made a good leader when shit faced drunk. It made sense that she wanted her own _thing_ . A legacy. She just didn’t know what. Lance would still sometimes wonder why she didn’t want to make The Castle her own _thing_. Coran did technically make her the Co-Owner and legally left the diner to her in his will.

That was always something he found funny. Allura and Lance had met the end of middle school but really bonded the summer just before high school. In that summer break, Allura took Lance to the Diner and he met her uncle Coran. It wasn’t long after that Allura asked Lance if he wanted to work a few shifts with her. A shift really meant reporting to Coran for odd jobs. Setting tables, turning on the dishwasher, or picking up litter in the parking lot.

But that’s how Lance landed a job at The Castle. His first part-time job that made him decent money through high school and even now in college. Allura would not only inherit money from her parents but also a diner business from Coran (who turned out to not be her biological uncle, but still family).

Allura always planned on taking The Castle. Coran had always planned on giving it to her. Lance always wondered why. He eventually figured out Coran must not have a lot, if any, family and Allura sort of was like his niece or daughter. But Allura wanted more. She wanted to work hard, not have life handed to her. And god was she stubborn.

Allura pulled into the student parking lot heading to her designated spot. As the duo made their way to the front of the school they merged with the other tired (or hungover) students. 12 P.M was still pretty early.

“Will I see you tonight?” Allura asked as she pulled the wooden front doors open. They were quite heavy so she had to put a lot of her body into it. Lance snickered as she watched, slightly out of breath, prop the door open.

“No, I have a paper due tonight so I took it off. But call me if it’s bad.” The two of them had made it to where they had to part ways in the hall.

“Absolutely will not. You will edit and edit that paper until it is beyond perfection. The McClain way,” She smiled. Lance rolled his eyes. They for chatted a bit more before they really needed to sprint to class. With a quick hug Lance turned down a long hall. He turned back and called out to Allura,

“Tell Coran I’ll have a payment for him Friday!”

“Lance-”

“Friday!” Lance called again before turning on his heel.

The Garrison was mostly brick red walls and wood and most of the colour schemes followed suit. Dozens of plaques and and cases filled with awards no one cared about lined the halls. You could tell this school had history just by the way it looked. It screamed pretentiousness. With a final turn, Lance had made it to the North wing, which was most commonly known as the Science Department. It was the largest part of that campus, with a high glass roof and multiple lecture and lab rooms. In the right corner was a to scale Raptor bone structure, a saltwater fish aquarium on the far left wall and, Lance’s personal favourite, a model of The Wright Flyer suspended from the ceiling. It was probably one of the coolest areas Lance had seen yet.

Lance thought he was pretty lucky to go Garrison. It was so advanced and filled with so much that it almost made him think taking out 3 loans was worth it. Almost.

Lance knew it would all be worth it once he made it to the piloting program he’s been dreaming of. Once Lance was in the air he would finally feel the pay off and hopefully be making enough to pay off Coran and the others.

Today’s lecture was in the main hall where the entrance was, up the staircase just in front of the landing. The class was filled with the usual amount of students, more sure to come in a few minutes. It was a large lecture space with a large projector up above. As Lance sauntered down the steps he spotted Pidge in their usual spots. A little closer to the front is what the two preferred, which was definitely _not_ because of Pidge’s eyesight. Lance sat down next to his friend, who was out cold, snoring on her text book. Her short hair was pulled back in a clip and she was wearing a grey sweater, that was probably Billie Eilish merch. No doubt she was rocking the dark eyebags and yesterday’s mascara.  He chuckled and decided he’d let her get a few more moments of shut eye.

 

“That’s bullshit!” Pidge shouted at the television as Kirby was pelted off screen. Tonight wasn’t her best game. She slumped back into her bean bag as Lucas was shown as the winner. Hunk smugly beamed next to Pidge.

The two of them sat on the floor a few feet away from the TV, leaning up against the couch. Lance sat behind them on the old sofa, controller in his lap. The gang was illuminated by the harsh glow of the TV but they all knew the dark room was covered with so many obscure object. Posters from foreign countries or a lamp that Pidge had attached to the roof when the wiring for the light went out (it was a hassle to turn on and off). There was even a cork board filled with newspaper clippings from who knows where. That and whole bunch of other weird junk made Pidge a hair away from being a hoarder. Lucky her, she was organised.

“Well maybe if you had your glasses on,” Lance commented. He reached across to the side table to his right of where he was sitting on the couch to grab the girls specs. He dangled them onto her shoulder before she took them begrudgingly. Lance was always pestering her to wear them. She couldn’t see anything and it especially didn’t help that she sat in a dark room nearly all day. Pidge just didn’t like the way they looked on her face and she was stubborn as hell. She had a very particular fashion taste and if something didn’t work right, boot.

Pidge shoved the bangs she had resting on her face up and out the way. “Sure mom,” She said ironically. Lance laughed before rubbing his hands all over her hair to mess it up. She huffed in annoyance and ducked out the way. “Asshole. Play me one more round and we’ll see who’s gonna be complaining about losing to eyesight next.”

Lance glanced at the time. _Shit_ , 6:30 P.M. “Sorry, I’ve gotta bounce,” Lance said as he shot up off the couch. Hunk and Pidge watched as he made his way to the door, grabbing his bag.

“Dinner shift tonight?” Hunk asked placing his controller down to watch the boy, almost as if he was suspicious. He was giving Lance _that_ look, the one he would give when they were in Grade 1 and about to do something that would probably get them in trouble.

“Nope. A paper due tomorrow, want to add and fix stuff up,” Lance stood with his handle on the doorknob watching the pair. Hunk and Pidge shared a look. “What?”

“You’ve just been heading home early every night for a while. Even on Saturdays, you tap out around 7,” Hunk said as he leaned on the couch behind him. He looked almost pensive.

“You always seem to have something going on,” Pidge added.

“Yeah, I guess do. I’m just trying really hard, I- I want to get on the honour roll by midterms,” Lance said with a sheepish undertone. He scratched the back of his head swaying a bit.

“We know dude. But we don’t want you to burn out,” Pidge sat up on her knees as she addressed Lance. “It’s only September.”

“Yeah man, don’t push yourself too hard,” Hunk offered with a smile.

“Tell you what I’ll look at the lesson plans for the next few weeks and take a day off work just for us,” Lance swung the door open and was leaning out already, he thought that seemed reasonable. Hunk and Pidge nodded, clearly satisfied with that. “Alright, I’m off!”

Lance rushed down the steps into the living room. On the couch was Colleen, she sat with a book, looking up she called out, “Oh bye Lance.” Lance quickly said ‘bye’ before darting out of the house. He had a bus to catch and he was close to missing it. 

Pidge lived in a bit of a posh neighbourhood a little ways away from Lance’s apartment so he had to bus home. Pidge’s neighbourhood was very close to being a gated community and you could tell just by the sizes of houses. Big houses with surveillance, clean sidewalks, not a pair of sneakers hanging from telephone polls to be seen. To be fair Pidge’s father was a professor at Garrison and her mother a real estate agent. And apparently her brother, who was never around, worked as a programmer. So this house fit them perfectly.

Lance jogged up to the stop as the bus was pulling in just slightly out of breath. Paying the bus fare and then moving his way to the back he decided that the window seat was the best. Popping in his ear buds made the ride home fly by. Lance bit his lip nervously, deep in thought.  

 _Did his friends really care that much about him working a lot?_ Lance supposed he really needed to be more careful when making his schedule for school and work.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking it out!
> 
> Please leave some kudos or some feedback down below. I appreciate it all and use it to improve my work and junk :)
> 
> I really would like to continue this series, but if it has little to no interest I probably won't update. I have up to chapter 4 written so let me know if y'all are interested! If these 2 chapters get good reception I'll start writing chapter 5 ASAP.  
> If you write SHKLANCE DROP A COMMENT I LOVE THESE MEN.
> 
> (Any discourse will get a fat block. I will not hesitate bitch)


	2. Meet Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance has always drawn in trouble. Who knows? Maybe this time will be different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: Underage Drinking, Mature Language
> 
> Posting the second chapter at the same time so I hope y'all will tolerate the first's awful ending lmao

As Lance made his way back into the apartment he groaned. Being home was good. He sunk into his love seat with a sigh of relief. His far too expensive textbooks next to him on the dark knitted carpet that was curiously stained. A few feet in front was Lance’s shitty TV, that wasn’t even hooked up to cable, the stand covered in trinkets. Candles, charms and incense covered nearly every surface in hopes that when they were lit they could drown out the neighbour's lovely weed aroma. The TV stand, coffee table, and the window ledge of plants, all sported a few melted down candles. That was it though. Not much in his small, cramped apartment. The connected kitchen was also very petite. Down the narrow hall to the right was his bathroom and to the left his bedroom. All were not very different than the state of Lance’s living room.

Looking at the clock on his T.V stand he read 7:15. Relaxing is done. Time to get cracking. Lance slumped over to his bedroom. Small would be the first word that came to mind.  His bed, a very comfortable queen sized, was the most notable. Very comfortable, but it took up the whole room. He maybe had a foot space between the door and the end of his bed. Lance was barely able to fit his desk and chair at the foot of his bed.

Lance stripped out of his shirt and placed it in his hamper. Well sort of, it fell beside the hamper. Lance squeezed into his desk and booted up the old laptop. It whirred to life instantly and was already open on a word document that was 6 pages deep. Lance looked briefly to his left and stared at his reflection in his tiny vanity mirror. Lance sighed, “Let’s go.” He grabbed his mouse and hit,

_Save As and Close._

The word document promptly closed. Lance opened his Netflix app and started to play where he had left off in Grey’s Anatomy. He had to get caught up to where Allura was. Bending down he grabbed his stained makeup bag and started sifting through the things he would need. Having a show play in the background was always good when he was doing his face.

Lance went through his typical process. Primer, foundation, brows, concealer, contouring and eye makeup. He opted for a smokier look that would still open his eyes. That usually attracted clients. Well, the kind he was going for. Lonely men or women looking for a chat or a side piece. Arm candy or an escort. Those were the jobs he would work. Because he was not a prostitute.

Lance scoffed, _you’re pretty close dude._ But, as close as he was, Lance was not a prostitute. He never had sex. Which, don’t get Lance wrong, didn’t make him any better or mightier than other workers. He wasn’t special and what he was doing would be considered just as “wrong” through much of society’s eyes. It could be considered sex work. But it paid so well that Lance was willing to work every single night to the late hours and keep it from all his friends. Even Allura. Because as accepting and open as they may be, this would be too much. Lance didn’t want his friends to think of him differently. So Lance lied about working shifts at the diner or having papers to write. Anything to cover his ass as he worked at a club.

Once Lance was content with his makeup he moved onto picking an outfit. Being a male escort was tricky. People looking for female escorts had one thing in mind typically. As a boy, he needed to walk the line. Something that could give off soft or dominant vibes. He never knew what a client wanted so staying neutral was always a good idea.

He decided on a nice pair of pants that were slightly too tight but hugged his ass nicely, and a mesh top Pidge had given him. She had ordered it online but it was too big. Instead of being badass and showing off her X pasties, that she was very proud of, it was frumpy and fit wrong. She tossed it at Lance claiming, ‘That’s what I get for shopping in men’s. You’ll wear it to a rave I’ll drag you to some point.’ Which has yet to happen.

Lance stared at his reflection in the bathroom, adjusting the way his clothes and making sure his hair was tousled in the right ways. He needed to look fuckable but not too provocative. Like he needed to make it clear he wasn’t offering sex but also needed to come across as sexy and honestly it was exhausting. The time was 8:20, _just enough time for coffee,_ Lance thought with probably a little too much enthusiasm. Chugging his 5th coffee of the day he was almost out the door. Lance had covered himself in a black trench coat just to have a little public decency for the walk. He grabbed his black off the shoulder purse, his fake, and a small switchblade (you could never be too safe). And he was out for the night.

The club was a large hole in the wall underground operation called The Depths. It was loud, dirty and there were barely any rules. Which is how it had to be. Lance had only gotten so far into shitty established bars with his fake and standing on street corners only got him Johns looking to whore him out. That was until a blonde hair street worker approached him and asked what in the fuck he was doing. Nyma was her name and she was the one who pointed him towards The Depths. A freaky speakeasy. But it was the perfect place for him to slip by unnoticed. 

The loud music blared and the bass tore through Lance’s body. The club was dimly lit with blue lights that shadowed people’s faces. Which worked in Lance's favour. The less recognizable he was the better. Lance spotted Nyma as he scanned the club at the base of the stairs. The usual ruckus was happening so he had to work his way through grinding hips to get to her. Now, Lance did not like Nyma. She was a liar and an absolute cunt, her and her lackey Rolo were a couple of assholes. But there was this unspoken rule in The Depths that workers look out for other workers. Better safe than sorry. The last thing they need is to have cops looking around these parts cause a lady of the night was found dead. Nyma was sat in a booth with her client. She was wearing something that could be considered clothing with her hair strategically covering her breasts. She was hanging off the arm of her client, obnoxiously batting her eyes like a schoolgirl. He planned on making this quick.

“Hey Ny,” Lance turned on the charm, lids dropped and hip popped to the side. Trying his best to seem casually seductive. The last thing he needed was Nyma on his ass because he killed the mood with her client.

“Oh, Lane!” She replied bubbly. Lance didn’t know what her client was into but she was trying to sell it hard. Her client seemed wasted and lazily blinked at Lance. With a hair flip, she squeaked out, “One of your regulars was asking about you. He’s at the bar babe!” She pointed in the general direction. Oh god, that voice was like nails on a chalkboard.

“Thanks, babe!” And Lance was gone. He could hear her obnoxious giggle even as he walked away. Lance had to hand it to her, she could put on a character. Pushing through the sea of sweaty thrusting bodies he eventually spotted his regular. He was an older man, probably 50, drank a lot and wanted someone to flirt with him all night. You know to call him handsome and say he’s wonderful in bed, but he probably had a wife and kids so having sex would cross a line. Which Lance was okay with. That dude’s money, not his. Taking a deep breath Lance pulled up in the stool next to him.

“Hey Mr.,” Lance greeted in his most sultry voice. He propped up his right arm on the bar leaning his on his palm making sure his knee touched the man’s inner thigh.

“Oh, Lane, you’re here tonight,” The man said through his drink, which looked to be whiskey, his regular. Lance didn’t know his name. Most of his clients didn’t want to give it out. Most likely out of guilt. Those just were people Lance attracted. Guilty people. They wanted to flirt, have some dirty talk, hell even dance. But they were too guilty to have sex. Which Lance assumed was because they were cheating or in a failing relationship of sorts.

Lance didn’t give out his real name either. Most workers didn’t. They all chose names that most of the time resembled something close to their real name. Lance’s fake ID was misspelled as Lane, so he ran with it. This guy was a few drinks in, he looked tired too. _Maybe his wife caught him, or they fought, or…_ the list went on.

Lance entertained the man, engaging in empty conversations that he didn’t give a fuck about with the occasional over the top compliment. Standard procedure. It was well into the night when the guy was just about done. Lance could tell, he usually became disinterested in Lance’s flirtations and barely contributed to the conversation. He just stared at his drink with an almost grimace. Almost like he was finished with this little fantasy and nothing could change his reality. Lance could tell he was an angry drunk.

But it was early. It was late in the night but he usually went right up until 4 AM with Lance. It was only half past midnight. _Fuck._

“I’m leaving,” He said cutting Lance off in whatever weird compliment he was giving.

“Let me walk you to your car.” Lance normally did this as a courtesy, not like he was much protection if the guy were to get jumped. But he hoped he left an impression on his clients to come see him again. As they pulled up to the Mercedes, Lance knew belonged to him, he opened the door. Which made him feel kind of bad because he technically was helping someone drink and drive. This guy had to be somewhat good at it since he was here nearly every night in the same unscratched Benz. “Have a great night, sugar.”

“Here,” The man produced a wad of cash from his jacket pocket and shoved it into Lance’s hands.

“Thanks,” Lance said to the side knowing he wasn’t even listening anymore. The man started up his car and pulled away. Judging by the weight of the money in his hand he could tell the guy paid him extra for the 3 hours they spent. But it wasn’t as much as he usually made if that guy had spent the whole night like he usually did. Lance chewed the inside of his cheek. He could go home, he made some cash. Or he could go back in and hunt around and hope for the best. After a few seconds of thinking in the cold night air, he turned to go back into The Depths, shoving his cash into a secret pocket of his purse. He wanted more.

It was now 1 in the morning and Lance was about to give up. He couldn’t spot any of his other regulars, a few people came up but he kindly worked out if they’re into his service or not. _Fuck it,_ Lance thought. I’m getting a beer. He normally never drank while working, for obvious scary reasons, but he clearly wasn't getting any work and one cheap beer would not hurt him.

Lance plopped down at the bar and asked for a Heineken, the bartender didn’t even ask for ID. Lance slid her the money plus a good tip for the hassle free order. She smiled and thanked him before moving down the bar to the next person.

“Rum and Coke, please,” Said a slightly scratchy voice, but still sounded young. _Yummy,_ Lance thought. Rum and Cokes were great but he knew better. He peered over to the man beside him. He was dressed rather formally, red tie, black button up with rolled sleeves. He had… _A mullet?_ The man must have felt his stare because they caught each other’s gaze.

“Nice drink choice,” Lance noted to brush it off.

“Wouldn’t expect that from a guy drinking Heineken,” The red tied man said in return. _Oh, he might…_

Lance shrugged, “I’m not picky.”

“Really?” The guy questioned, a certain charm to it. But he still seemed very uninterested.

“Yeah, a buzz is a buzz.”

“Hm,” The man responded. He seemed quite young, younger than most men here. Lance couldn’t read if he was down for an escort though, something about him seemed casual. As if he wasn’t aware of what happened here. Not innocent but almost like he didn’t give a fuck what these people were into.

“New here?” Lance questioned, he got up and moved a stool down to be right beside him. He’d be able to pick up on signs better this way. If the guy didn’t want to pay for someone tonight he would have stopped talking to Lance already. That was the whole point of The Depths. If you came here you knew what was going on.

“Yeah, do I seem like it?” He asked.

Lance smirked, “No, just haven’t seen you before. Thought maybe you may have lived on the dance floor.” He held eye contact as he brought his lips to the bottle.

“Nope. Just here for a drink and a conversation tonight.”

So he did know how it worked. Lance smirked, score! Time to sell himself now.

“I’m good at conversations…”

“Are you?”

“Well depends on _how_ we want to talk. My rates are $25 an hour for a great conversation,” Lance was laying it on heavy. He turned more towards the other and cocked his head to the side and said, “$35 for something a little more intimate,” his knee touched the other man’s. “And I have different rates for dancing. No sex though…” Lance prayed this worked. He really could make up for his loses this night.

The man kept his eye fixed on the dance floor, contemplating the offer. Lance hoped he didn’t push too hard. _Oh god, he’s probably not even-_

“How about a conversation?” The man said turning his attention back onto Lance. _Thank God!_ Lance took another sip of his drink coyly. He could do that.

“Okay then. You can call me Lane, Mister,” Lance introduced himself leaning back onto the bar with his left elbow. The man had now also turned back to the bar leaning on it with his forearms, his non chalantness rolling off in waves.

“Alright, my name’s Keith.” That caught Lance’s attention.

A name. In an endless sea of pseudonyms, Misters, and the occasional ‘Daddy’, Lance was given a name. It rang clearly through his head.

“Keith…” Lance tested it out. He had never addressed anyone by a normal first name.

The man- Keith nodded with a chuckle, “Yeah, it’s not the most exotic name.” He finished off his drink and called for another.

 

Lance was able to gather a few things about Keith. He was as young as he seemed. No older than 25 at most and despite being new he seemed very laid back about the things happening around him. Even some of the more seasoned patrons were phased by some shit or in the very least pointed out some of the wilder stuff that happened. Lance was already put off by the fact that he had gotten his name. _Keith._ Over all, Keith didn’t seem like Lance’s usual crowd.

_No guilt._

Keith didn’t radiate the typical guilt like the other men. He was unashamed of being there almost. Which made it real easy to chat him up. They started off with what Keith came looking for in The Depths. Turns out he didn’t really know.

“Well, no harm in trying new things,” Lance suggested and Keith nodded to that.

At some point, a girl had walked by with light up shoes and they shifted their conversation to clothing. How gimmicky LEDs were and how impractical they were, considering how cheaply they were made. Lance didn’t know how to make a conversation about Chinese capitalism sexy but he tried. In all honesty, he forgot that’s what he was supposed to be doing. Regardless they were both laughing and staying light hearted so hopefully, that did the trick. It was just a conversation after all.

The club started to empty slowly which meant it was almost 4. The club would stay open much longer but 4 was usually when people stumbled their way out. Nyma wasn’t around either, meaning she was making good money tonight. Keith stepped off his stool and stretch out a bit.

“I think I need to head off.” His voice was gravelly from drinking and his lids hung slightly. He had had a few drinks.

“Let me walk you to your car,” Lance offered as he hopped off his stool. Keith pulled open an app on his phone, ‘Keys Please’. _Funny,_ Lance thought. First time for everything. Keith stared blankly at the app for a few moments, scratched the side of his head then turned to Lance.

“You know how to use this?” Keith gestured towards his phone clearly lost. Lance snorted and took the device from him. Lucky for Keith he was able to figure it out quickly. They both had made it outside and walked towards a silver Chevy Bolt.

 _Nice ride_ , Lance thought. Lance was able to get a better look at Keith in the moonlight without all the shadows. He still looked young but had some dark eyes. Keith and him leaned on the hood waiting for the driver to show up debating if Spring or Fall was better. As Lance was explaining why he preferred the end of summer, but just before fall started, a red car pulled in with two passengers.

“Guess he’s here,” Keith mumbled to himself as he pushed off the hood. He walked around to the drivers side followed by Lance. Swinging open the door with a slightly too much force he leaned across  brown leather seat and rummaged through some compartments. He emerged with a band of money and handed it to Lance with a, “Here,” and a slight smile. Lance mused,

“Thanks.” He had been given too much money. _I’m really not complaining._ The Keys Please driver had approached and greeted Keith asking for some information. Registration and junk. Lance felt weird leaving without a proper goodbye so he waited to not seem rude. _Like that actually matters._ Once the driver left to confer with his partner Lance decided now was the time to split.

“Alright I’ll be off. I hope I get to see you again-”

“Before you leave-” Keith leaned into his drivers side again and quickly picked up a business card from the cup holder. He checked it over quickly before handing it to Lance. “I normally don’t have nights free. I’m busy then. If you’re available or interested at any time I’d love to make some arrangements during the day for… something. Maybe get lunch?”

Lance took the card cautiously and considered what Keith was offering. That was new and sounded awfully like-

Keith must have noticed Lance’s hesitancy and added, “You don’t have to answer now. Just call me if you’re interested and if you don’t, then you don’t.”

Keith headed over to the passengers door to strap in, Lance still on the other side clutching his money and card. “I’ll let you know… have a good night.”

With a final wave goodbye, Lance turned away and started his walk back home looking the card over. Running his fingers over the sharp edges, rereading the white font on the black card. _Keith Kogane_ followed by a personal phone. Even as Lance was rubbing his makeup off with some wipes he stared pointedly at the card on his bathroom counter.

This was fucking weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave some kudos or some feedback down below. I appreciate it all :)
> 
> I posted Chapter 1 and 2 because the first was hella dry but I couldn't combine the two because it'd be too long. Oh well. Enjoy for now.
> 
> I really would like to continue this series, but if it has little to no interest I probably won't update. I have up to chapter 4 written so let me know if y'all are interested! If these 2 chapters get good reception I'll start writing chapter 5 ASAP.  
> If you write SHKLANCE DROP A COMMENT I LOVE THESE MEN.
> 
> (Any discourse will get a fat block. I will not hesitate bitch.)


	3. Stupid Fucking Card

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is haunted by a little black card,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags:  
> Mentions of sugar babying and prostitution
> 
> (Beta'd by myself so who knows! It might be disgusting down there! We die like men!
> 
> Read notes at the end as well <3

The McDonald’s parking lot on a Wednesday at 7AM was a surreal scene. The morning fog masked most of the surrounding leaving hints of the restaurant peeking through. It was eery and Lance half expected some zombies to start emerging from the mist Walking Dead style.

Despite the ominous setting Lance couldn’t be bothered enough to leave and neither could Allura. She sat in the driver’s seat next to Lance, hair pulled out of her face gazing into the apocalyptic parking lot in the same manner Lance was. Tired. Waiting for their breakfast to be delivered at the window. Because at some point in their lives Allura and Lance took solace in eating the really shitty McDonald’s breakfast pancakes in the parking lot.

It was cooler this morning than most and Lance strongly argued with himself that it wasn’t the oncoming fall season but instead that there was a torrential downpour forecasted for that evening. The temperature called for something warmer than Lance’s usual throw-on-jacket and he opted for his long black trench coat. It was honestly an awesome steal at Goodwill.

Waiting for the pancakes was like waiting for a pot of water to boil. _A watched pot…_  Lance ran his fingers through his fine hair not really caring how it looked that day since it was going to get it all gucked up by rain anyway. Releasing a deep bored sigh he slumped even further back in his seat. Fuck, I just want some food. Allura glanced over from where she sat with a chuckle,

“Two more minutes and I go in there and I demand to get the whole meal for free.”

Lance grinned at the thought of Allura going completely suburban mom on the poor overnight staff working.

“Only if you demand to have chicken nuggets before 10AM as well. 

They both giggled at that because they knew if she really wanted to, she could. Lance adjusted in his seat again shoving his hands into his pockets comfortably.

_Oh?_

Lance’s finger brushed up against a sharp point. Intrigued, Lance fished the mystery item out his deep pocket. _Oh_. It was the card.

It had been two days since the night at the club where he met Keith. Lance must have shoved the card back into the depths of his pockets figuring he wasn’t going to bother. He’d never heard of some dude just handing out their business card to their escorts. From all the off vibes Lance got from Keith as well he didn’t want to risk being found in a ditch the next morning. Still, he examined the card again for the hundredth time. Once Lance was in some better lighting he observed a shiny black inverted triangle with another smaller triangle inside. The black triangles only stood out when they reflected light, otherwise masked by the same black background.

 

**Keith Kogane**

_xxx-xxx-xxxx_

 

There was no other information on this card. No company or business. No email or fax. Not even a job position. Just Keith and his number. Which, now that Lance examined it further, appeared to be a mobile number. Maybe this wasn’t a business card after all.

“Get lunch… or something.”

Did this dude just give Lance his cell in the most unsettling way possible? Who has professionally printed busi-

“What are you looking at?” At some point, Allura noticed Lance’s fixation on the card in hand.

“Nothing!” Lance snapped his head up with the speed of a hummingbird. _Fuck! Real smooth Lance!_

Allura raised one hand, open palmed, in surrender, “Easy tiger. You were just giving that card a stare that could burn a hole in it,” she yawned. Clearly not matching the same energy Lance had skyrocketed to. _Play it off._

“It’s really nothing. It’s just a.. business card I-” Lance was cut off by a tap on the driver’s side window. Both and Lance jumped out of their seats, hearts leaping for the stars. The duo was too distracted to notice the McDonald’s employee strolling up to the car. As Allura rolled down the window to retrieve their meal Lance quickly shoved the card back into his pocket praying it wouldn’t be brought up again.

Too fucking close.

 

Lance stomped into his apartment utterly soaked head to toe. His shit umbrella hadn’t lasted 2 minutes in the rain and he was thoroughly drenched. Stripping down right in his living room cause he couldn’t bear the feeling of wet denim on his skin, it was like being covered in a sweatier, thicker layer of epidermis. Deciding that the discarded clothes were too wet to sit his hamper he opted to hang them in the bathroom. Fishing through the pockets to retrieve anything that he’d need. A one dollar bill, wallet, that stupid fucking business card. With a huff, he returned to the living room to deposit his shit to dry out overnight. The card, made from plastic cardstock, had surprisingly held up through the rain. Lance scoffed and tossed it across the table.

“Almost got my ass into trouble.”

 

Thursday evening was Smash night with Pidge and Hunk at Lance’s apartment. As promised he took the night off to spend with his two friends (and to hopefully keep them off his trail). The trio had made a significant dent in the Lasagna Hunk had brought from class, not even bothering with plates they all ate straight from the tin with forks. It was a blessing to have a friend in culinary school, being pleasantly surprised with home-cooked meals was Lance’s saving grace.     

Thinking about it they were really an odd trio. From the outside looking in you’d never expect them to be this close. Hunk had been Lance’s longest friend, even before Allura. They had met back in Grade 1 when Lance had first moved to America, his Cuban accent as thick as butter. He was placed in special speech classes to help improve his pronunciation and grammar. The teachers decided it would be best to pair the new ESL student with that shy boy with a faint lisp. Boy, did they regret that decision. Hunk and Lance became thick as thieves from that point and were notorious for causing problems, though Lance was more of the root of the troublemaking. Even as Lance’s accent faded, Hunk outgrew his lisp and they both stopped having to attend speech classes their friendship carried on. It’s when you threw Pidge into the mix that things become a little unclear.

Pidge had met Lance through the tutoring system. It was Pidge’s final year in high school since she was graduating a year early. But she had to come up with some volunteer hours or no diploma. Figuring she’d be the most helpful instructing other students in shit she already knew, she signed up for AP Science tutoring. Couldn’t be hard. Her first session was with this kid a year ahead of her at some other school on the east side. From her own investigation of his Facebook page, she chalked up that Lance Mcclain was an idiot. And for the first few meetings, that’s how he came across as well. But after a while, Pidge discovered that Lance was smart. Very fucking smart. So smart that he was enrolled in the same classes as she was at Garrison next year.

And that was how the unlikely gang came to be. A Cuban boy with a passion for flying, a soft culinary student, and a bitchy engineer.

With a triumphant, “Ha!” Lance threw down his controller onto his love seat. He had won that round and soaked in the victory.

“Shit,” Pidge grumbled discarding her controller to the side. She hadn’t had a winning streak all week and Lance wanted her to remember that. Standing up, stepping over Hunk’s legs, he headed towards the hallway.

Lance leered, “Don’t worry Pigeon! Maybe next time!” Pidge kindly flipped him the bird as he turned his back on his guests shouting over his shoulder, “Taking a victory piss!”

In the washroom, Lance examined his clothes that were still hanging to dry. They were stiff and smelt. Smelt like rain, but not the fun petrichor smell, it was mildewy. Laundry it was, then. When Lance returned to the living room, debating if he should add more cash to his laundry card, he spotted Pidge turning a card over in her hands. Keith’s card.

Lance had learned from last time with Allura. _Just play it off, if you don’t act like it’s a big deal then no one will suspect anything. If all else fails just deny knowing where the card came from. Simple_. Except for the fact that Pidge was giving the card the look. It was her glasses on forehead, brows furrowed with the right one slightly quirked, look.

_Fuck. That’s it. She’s figured it out cause she’s an actual fucking detective. Of course, she would. I left it out in the open for her and now she knows me di-_

And just like that PIdge shrugged and threw the card back onto the table. Lance let a breath he didn’t even know he was holding go.

“I’ve got to head out. Want a ride home, Hunk?

With an exchange of goodbyes, Lance was left alone in his apartment. He sunk back on to the love seat, lasagna dish in lap, ready to finish it off himself. Mindlessly scrolling through Instagram for awhile he eventually looked up and spotted the card sitting on the table. The double triangle caught the light and reflected at Lance, mocking him. Dropping the Lasagna pan beside him Lance reached across the table, a mouthful of Lasagna, to pick up the card. It had caused him more problems than he needed. He crossed his way to the kitchen, each step creaked, to throw the cursed card away. Bullshit. It was as he reached the garbage can that his phone buzzed aggressively. Glancing down at the notification his heart then dropped to his stomach.

The screen displayed a text from an unknown number that just read:

 

Unknown: Payment. Saturday night. Working hours.

 

Lance’s mouth became the Sahara desert, each breath made his throat scrape like sandpaper. His stomach felt like it was filled with poison. He gaped at the notification. As vague as it was he knew exactly what it meant. It’s not like he wasn’t expecting this but there was something terrifying about receiving this order. Saturday? Fuck. He wanted to pay Coran on Friday. Chewing the inside of his cheek he decided this payment was far more important. Far more. And now that he thought about it did he even have enough? Sure, he had been paid generously Monday night but would that be enough to pay off his loaner without pissing him off? How much to pay a loan shark? Lance then focused his gaze over to the card he was holding above the trash can and for a staggering moment, Lance weighed his options.

Better safe than sorry.

 

Reddit proved to be one of the more helpful websites for Lance’s research. All the magazine tabloids and tacky ‘sex’ blogs were mostly filled with over glamorized versions of escorts who get pain fifteen thousand an hour. Clearly written by people who don’t work in the field. Blah.

 

_Escort given number_

_Escort given clients cellphone_

_Escort offered day_

_Escort offered day lunch meeting_

 

Lance’s searches were pulling up squat however, a common word kept crawling its way into nearly every single article. Sugar Baby. Lance understood what a Sugar Baby was. In fact, he knew a few who were down in The Depths, but he would hardly call an offer to get lunch Sugar Babying. Sugar Babying involved allowances, dates and, gifts. But Lance’s digging and desperate need to sort through his situation lead him to sugar baby Reddit page.

_Newbie Sugar Baby_

He ended up on some thread discussing what people’s first experiences were when they started and any advice they would give fresh meat. Lance scrolled by thoroughly reading the most upvoted responses. The weight he felt in his stomach as he realized the majority of everyone who posted all kind of summarized with, “I wish I knew what I know now back then”. No matter how much research Lance did he couldn’t help but feel like he was going to be walking blindly through a forest.

Eventually, Lance found a person who was in a similar situation as he was. From his understanding, she had sex with dudes in motels to make money for her kids gymnastic competitions. _Honesty is the best policy…_ After one night with some rando' she met at a bar he offered her his cell number to call. From there he wanted to go out for dinner at some point. It progressed into an allowance based relationship. She gave some advice, like meeting in a public place and getting regular STI check ups. Not too far below that post, Lance stumbled upon someone who was strictly a daytime escort. No sex. She inserted a link that was “A good read for anyone new to the industry”, which lead back to some hidden sugar baby forum.

Lance shifted back in his seat soaking in all the new information. It was only midnight; the night was still young. With one final staring competition with the card, Lance started to type in the 10 digit number in his phone.

 

**lance** : hey this is Lane from The Depths. You gave me this number and mentioned getting lunch sometime?

 

Lance gripped his phone tightly rereading his message over and over again. After five or so minutes without a response, Lance scrunched up his nose. It wasn’t super late.

 

“I’m usually busy during the nights.” Right.

It was about 1AM when Lances phoned had buzzed during his shower. He poked his head out to see if could catch a glimpse of the screen but the fogged room made it impossible. Deciding to call it in early with his shower he hurried back to his room. Sitting with his towel around his waist on his bed he unlocked his phone with damp fingers.

 

**keith** : Hey Lane Sorry for the late response just seeing this now. Lunch wouldn’t be bad

 

Lance thought about it for a moment considering the best way to approach this, running through a mental checklist.

 

No.1 Be firm but accommodating with scheduling: Clients who can’t compromise for your availability at first are often trouble. However, being more open will be easier for everyone involved.

 

**lance** : alright, when are you next available?

**keith** : all Friday and Saturday afternoon, with a bit of evening on Saturday. Sunday morning only so that probably wouldn’t work

 

No.2 Short and simple: First meetings should be short and simple to avoid any awkwardness or stressful situations.

 

**lance** : how about tomorrow after 1? Get a quick bite to eat and chat, finish up a little before 3?

**keith** : works for me, any place in particular?

 

No.3 Public space or bust: Meeting for the first few times in a public space is your safest bet. If the client insists to meet you privately, run.

 

**lance** : how about westside mall? coffee place in there is nice, plus we can walk around when we’re done

**keith** : perfect, sounds good to me

 

No. 4 Rules & Rates: Establish your and rates. Make it clear it’s your way or the highway.

 

Lance thought hard about this. What were his boundaries? What lines would he not cross for cash? Keith seemed like a pretty sound guy, but even if he wanted to hold Lance’s hand or sit right beside him, Lance supposed that wouldn’t be the worst.

 

**lance** : cool! same deal as last time. No sex.

**keith** : shit there goes my plans to get freaky in a bathroom stall

 

 Lance snorted. _What a smartass._ Tossing his phone beside him on the bed he collapsed backwards. What was he getting himself into?

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave some kudos or some feedback down below. I appreciate it all :)
> 
> Wow! Thank you all so much for your kind words. I'm so happy so many of you enjoy this series so far. This will be a whole ass story, no guarantee for how long. But I think the majority of y'all will like it. I have written chapter 5, going to get cracking at 6 soon. I'm hoping to post every 4 days. That might be a little bit too much but I'm gonna try, I'm HORRIBLE at estimating workloads. If not every 4 days I hope to get to at least once a week. We'll see once I get the ball rolling. I've also just been enjoying all the ShKLance content recently ?? destroy me with kinktober bitches.
> 
> (Any discourse will get a fat block. I will not hesitate bitch.)


	4. Just Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance's coffee date might be more shocking than anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags:  
> Nothing new folks!
> 
> Beta'd by myself! I also use Grammarly. But if there's any typos down below, my bad. We die like men.
> 
> (Read the end of chapter notes also <3)

Picking what outfit to wear was slightly more daunting than anticipated. He wanted to look well dressed but not OVERdressed for the mall. Wanted to look hot but not _escort_ hot. Wanted to look stylish but didn’t want to look like he tried too hard. Looking effortless was hard work. Lance scanned his small, cramped closet again mentally coordinating outfits.

_Too bummy._

_Too classy._

_Too hot._

_Not hot enough._

_Too warm._

_Not warm enough- does this even cover my-_

He spent a long time standing in front of the closet. _How does one dress when you’re an escort in daylight?_ The only thing Lance could picture was your cliche sugar baby in the skin tight short pink dress and white fur coat. _Nope._

Lance settled on a grey and white sweater striped with inverted sleeves and a pair of rolled cuffed jeans. His mom had bought him that sweater last Christmas. He grazed his fingers across the soft material of the shirt smiling at the memory. Lance examined himself in the mirror from head to toe. He had styled his hair a little more than usual, shaved his peach fuzz that never grew to anything more. He applied a small amount of cologne to his neck, accessorized with a thin bracelet and put an earring stud in. Hell, he even applied some concealer under his dark eyes, because that’s definitely not the look he was going for.

Lance looked good. He looked really good. He reached for his phone in his back pocket and opened Snapchat. He posed in the mirror and took a quick snap to send off to Hunk, Pidge and Allura in hopes they would confirm his thoughts. The response was varying degrees of overreaction faces and too many heart emojis. Lance snorted as he screenshotted Pidge’s reply captioned with. “I just came.”

 _Well, at least they like it._ And hopefully, Keith would too.

 

Allura smacked down on the car’s horn as Lance walked down the steps of his apartment. He quickly rushed over to the passenger's side, slightly embarrassed.

“Stop that!” Lance ducked into the car, slamming the door as fast as possible.

Allura turned to him smugly, “Sorry, but I know a snack when I see one,” she grinned, “look at you!” Lance rolled his eyes as he fastened in his seat belt, it wasn’t like he never got dolled up. It was just slightly rare.

Allura looked over her shoulder as she backed out of parking lot, “What’s the occasion?”

Lance leaned back a bit in his seat with an air of confidence. He turned to look out his window, “Mom wanted to get some photos today,” he lied. No one had to know what he was up to today. They really couldn’t. Lance had even gone as far as to pick a mall out of their area. The only person who would even remotely close enough to Westside mall would be Pidge, and she didn’t bother with malls.

“Hm,” Allura hummed in acknowledgement, clearly not pressing the topic any further. Casting his gaze over to Allura Lance took a moment to look at the girl. Her hair was curled and in a stylish high ponytail. She wore a rather low cut black top (well, low cut for Allura) and she had hoops in. Huge, dangling, golden hoops! Squinting his eyes Lance was able to pick up the faintest hints of mascara, blush and lip gloss on her face.

Lance dramatically looked her up and down, “Oh, is there any particular reason you’re all dressed up?”

Allura feigned ignorance, raising her brows. “What?”

Lance narrowed his eyes, “Since when did you wear hoops?”, he lilted. Allura tried to bite back a smile but failed miserably.

“Dad is out of town…” She smiled, a suppressed excitement lying underneath. Lance cocked a brow up,

“Oh? And that means you’ll be…?” A pause filled the car as it cruised down the empty streets. Allura could have said anything. Partying. Drinking. Dancing. Going out with boys. Instead, she stared blankly at the road, excitement still there but now underneath a puzzled face. “Allura..”

“I really don’t know,” She vacillated.

“Oh Allura,” Lance turned forward and placed his head in his hands. She was hopeless. “Your father isn’t home, you put on clothes that would put him into shock and you have no plans?”

“Well, it’s not like I know of anything to do!”

“Go to a club! Suck some dick! Get drunk! Hell, I bet your mom would even be your plug!” Lance crowed. The world was her oyster at this point. Allura chuckled,

“I’ll stick to this for now. We’ll see what comes. This top has never seen the light of day.”

“A tragedy,” Lance lamented over it.

“Besides I couldn’t do anything too wild. He’d find out somehow,” Allura pulled into the school’s parking lot with a sigh.

“That means you’re not doing it right,” Lance said turning back to her smugly. “Take it from someone who’s been sneaking out since freshman year, you just need to work on your lying. Set up a scenario and have a fall plan. It’s foolproof.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It is! Let me take you out one time. Please, it’ll all be under control! It’ll be fun!”

“I don’t know… why don’t we just go see an R- rated movie?”

“Oh god, you’ve been deprived,” Lance collapsed back into his seat. “What is the wildest thing you’ve done?” Allura put the car into park and took the keys out of ignition with a contemplative look.

“There was that one time we skipped class to go to the variety store.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Uh! We snuck out! Definitely does!

“After the substitute took attendance! Does. Not. Count.”

Their conversation drifted from idea to idea until Allura settled on, ‘Let me think about,’. _She’s been deprived._ To think that a nineteen-year-old was nervous about going out past eleven o’clock on a weeknight while her dad was out of town. These are things she should have been doing years ago.

“Anyways I won’t need a ride after class, going straight to my mom’s,” Lance said rifling through his bag.

“Are you sure?” I can give you a ride there,” Allura offered. She was far too generous. Lance waved off her offer. “Alright then, I’m going to move the car to the south parking lot then since I’m in the second building today.” Lance paused his searching and looked up at her inquisitively. “Sewing.” Lance snorted. _Right_. He had forgotten she had taken that class.

“How’s that going by the way?” Lance produced out his larger leather wallet from his backpack that he had been looking for.

“Awful. As expected.” Lance nodded in agreement. Opening up his wallet he pulled out one of two envelopes. Neatly written on the front was Coran’s initials. Looking it once over he extended it to Allura who slowly took it. “This is?”.

In a quick motion, Lance zipped up his bag and swung open the car door. With one leg already out he turned to her, “Give that to Coran for me.”

“Lance you-”

“Ciao, call me later tonight!” With that, he shut the door quickly and jogged off away from the car.

 

Lance was never the type to get nervous, even under pressure, he could be as cool as a cucumber. It was just who he was as a person and it would be quite odd if he did, in fact, get nervous. Lance had been fine all of physics, taking notes and chatting with Pidge. He had been fine on his bus ride to the mall, unfazed to say the least. He even browsed some stores before he even had made it to the coffee shop, not even worried. It wasn’t until he sat down in the cafe that he felt the smallest inkling of fear start to build up.

It filled his stomach with acid that was eating away at him that he became antsy sitting in the booth. The shop itself was spacious and cute, similar to a Starbucks. It was rather busy since it was in a mall but it wasn’t so crowded that you couldn’t sit down.

Lance fidgeted in his seat, tapping the table nervously, praying he wasn’t sticking out like a sore thumb. Lance decided he’d distract himself and shoot Keith a text to let the man know he had already picked out a seat.

 

 **lance:** I’m at a booth on the left of the counter, you’ll spot me

 **keith:** just parked, see you soon

 

Lance’s nerves weren’t eased. Sipping at his coffee, hoping to god he would just calm down, Lance went over his mental list of what was supposed to happen. _Coffee, chat, small talk, walk around, buy a new umbrella. What could go wrong?_ What could? _Oh…_

From across the store, Lance honed in on the incoming customer, the mullet made him easy to spot. It was probably the better lighting of the day but Keith looked completely different. Still recognizable, and slightly rough around the edges, but he had a more casual look about him. He wore a black puffed jacket over top a grey button-up tee. A pair of dark grey skinny jeans with a belt and a loose necklace made him look young. Like _really_ young. Compared the business casual outfit last night Keith now just looked like an ordinary dude. Not some cryptic bar dweller.

Keith ordered a large coffee at the counter before scanning the room, eyes locking on Lance’s. _Gulp,_ Lance waved gently as Keith gave an acknowledging nod. _Relax Lance! He’s just an ordinary dude who wants to have some coffee with you. Like a date!_ Keith grabbed his order before making his way over to the booth. _Cool as a cucumber_. Keith reached the booth and slid out the chair across from Lance to sit down,

“Hey Lane.”

Now it was in this moment that Lance didn’t know what to do. How was he supposed to talk to Keith when the only other interaction they had was slightly sexually charged. A busy coffee shop isn’t the place to make sexy eyes. Lance couldn’t even recall the last time he had been on a date. So, in the moment, Lance’s mind completely blanked out.

“Uh...hi,” Lance sputtered.

Eventually, Lance decided to abandon all hopes as coming across as cool and just went for what came naturally. Naturally, he was floundering, but it was sufficient to hold a conversation. And Keith didn’t notice, or he didn’t care if he did.

Outside the club and in normal day wear Keith didn’t seem as intimidating. But he did seem out of place, it was probably all the dark clothing. Their conversation was easy, similar to the previous night’s, but just sobered. They drifted from topic to topic seamlessly as time passed.

Lance tapped a rhythmless beat on his now nearly empty drink, “So you’re busy most nights?” Keith nodded in confirmation, his large drink finished off long ago. “What kind of job gives you those hours?” Lance asked. A doctor, maybe, would explain the money he has, but he was so young. Lance didn’t know much but could almost guarantee that most well-paid doctors start working closer to their thirties. Also, Keith didn’t seem like the healing type. Keith seemed to hesitate for a moment, answer caught on his lips. _Shit, he probably doesn’t want to answer that._ “You don’t have to-”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m just trying to figure out how to explain what it is that I do. I work...for a company and part of my job is international affairs. So I have late nights cause of time differences and… stuff.”

Seemed reasonable enough, “I see, I see. Must be rough with hours like that.”

“Yeah, I guess it is. I don’t really mind. I don’t get any of the difficult work.”

“Like?” Lance inquired, finishing off his coffee.

“Well, it’s all medical crap. I’m not a scientist so I work on the more business aspect of it all. You know statistics, marketing, other shit. My partner works mostly with the science. I’m a little all over the place,” Keith offered. _So it was medical_.

“Huh… didn’t take you for that type,” Lance glanced down at the time on his phone. Ten past two. “Want to browse around?” Keith nodded and stood up, picking up his jacket and folding it over his arm. The two made their way out of the shop.

“Not that type?” Keith inquired, head slightly tilted.

Lance smiled, “Yeah, not a businessman type.” The two stepped onto the escalator as Lance lead the way to a specific store.

“Oh?” Keith smirked, “What type am I?”

“Oh, you know, I was thinking more of a creative. A drummer in a rock band, or writer.”

“Ahh. Well sorry to disappoint,” Keith chuckled running his hands through his long fine hair. “I just like to dress this way.”

“No, it’s fine. Mom always said to never get involved with artists. They’re too tragic for their own good,” they both laughed at this. As they stepped off the elevator Keith followed Lance’s lead, apparently not caring much where they were headed to.

“What do you do?” An innocent enough question but Lance hesitated to answer. Keith could have just come to his own conclusion considering why they were even hanging out in the first place. But it was harmless.

“Mmm, well I work as a server part time but I mostly am in classes.” Lance had found the shop he was looking for and headed in, Keith in tow.

“Really? What are you studying?”

Lance sighed as he started down an aisle looking for the umbrellas. This shop sold varying items, that were slightly overpriced, and somewhat cute. Allura had brought Lance here once to find a rain jacket so he knows for sure they’d have to have umbrellas. “Psychics, mostly. Calc too. I had an elective so I’ll have some philosophy course next semester.”

The two had eventually found their way to the back wall of the shop that was lined with graphic tees and sweaters. There were a few cute ones, one in particular caught his eye. “That’s nice…” Lance ran his hands up the sleeve of a pullover hoodie. It was plain and blue, except for the small cartoon shark embroidered on the upper left side. Keith leaned over Lance’s shoulder to see what he was talking about.

“Looks cute. You gonna’ get it?” Keith came around to inspect the sweater closer. Lance shrugged passively, not really wanting to commit to it. He didn’t need a new sweater right now. Nearby he spotted a bin of umbrellas.

“Perfect!” Lance crossed over, picked up a few, and turned back to Keith. “Which one?”

Keith dropped the sweater sleeve he was still inspecting, looking up to the umbrellas. He scanned them over a few times.

“Red one?”

Lance held up a black and red striped umbrella. It was dark and subtle but not something he would typically go for. With a nod Lance placed the others back and held onto the red striped umbrella, noticing the small smirk Keith had.

The two browsed the aisles some more, chatting lightly, joking about some of the more pointless items. Lance had honestly forgotten about how nervous he was about the whole thing. Truthfully he forgot he was getting paid for all of this. Keith had his attention grabbed somewhere else, “I’ll be right back.”

Lance nodded as he continued you to read the back of the book he had picked up. This place had a nice variety of books. They were mostly fictional stories, some were cringey young adult novels. But a good portion were dystopian political books. Lance was running his fingertips over the cover of a copy of _The Handmaid’s Tale_ before looking across the shop. He spotted Keith standing near the cash register. _Oh shit, he probably has to leave_. Lance quickly made his way towards the checkout, umbrella in hand. Keith looked up at Lance with a grin, like he was up to something. Lance just brushed it off.

“Sorry about that. I’m all done now”

“No problem,” Keith turned to take the umbrella from Lance’s hands, now addressing the cashier, “The umbrella as well, please.” Lance scanned the countertop and spotted two other items, one of which was the sweater he was looking at earlier. Keith had already pulled out his wallet, card in hand. Lance insisted,

“Oh no, it’s fine. I can-”

“It’s no problem Lane. I don’t mind.”

With a quick beep, the transaction was over with before Lance could even protest further. _Goddamn tap._ As the duo exited the store Keith fished around in the bag for his third item, which turned out to be a keychain of sorts. Keith pocketed his keychain before handing the bag with the rest of its contents to Lance.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“As I said, I don’t mind,” Keith hummed in response, apparently unphased by it all. The two walked around until they ended up near the parking lot entrance, Lance set his bag down on a nearby bench.

“Well this was fun,” Lance chimed. It had been, Lance had enjoyed himself thoroughly.

“It was…” Keith paused for a moment, thinking over his words. “Would you like to do this again sometime?”

“Why not?” After comparing schedules for a few minutes they decided they’d be able to meet up again in three days for a late lunch. Something a little more intimate Lance supposed. “Alright, I’ll see you then,” Lance smiled.

“Right. Do you- uh, take PayPal?” Keith asked. Lance paused for a moment, briefly forgetting that he was supposed to receive payment for this.

“Oh! Sure, yeah.”

Keith passed Lance his phone, PayPal open for his email. Lance chewed the inside of his cheek. _Should I tell him?_

“So, just so you know, my real name is Lance. I use Lane as a cover, safety and junk, but you should probably just call me Lance from now on.”

Keith chuckled, “Makes sense. Lance does suit you better though.” Lance could feel the faintest of blushes creep onto his face as he handed Keith phone back over. But then something became glaringly obvious. It was _so_ apparent that Lance felt stupid. Even as they parted ways with the promise of seeing each other in a few days, Lance felt even more stupid. How had he not noticed? The glaring, obvious, problem with Keith. It made Lance’s stomach do that weird acid thing again. How could Lance not have noticed that gigantic ring on Keith’s left hand?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave some kudos or some feedback down below. I appreciate it all :)
> 
> I'm so happy with the reception of this so far. I didn't know what to expect when uploading but glad I found a group of people who enjoy it :) Anyways this chapter was just a smidge longer than usual. I usually have each chapter sit around 2700 words. This one was 3100, so hopefully, it didn't feel dragged out. 
> 
> I'm digging what I've been writing, I can't wait to get to the juicy stuff. Which I promise will happen soon!!
> 
> (Any discourse will get a fat block. I will not hesitate bitch.)


	5. Into the Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance has to walk into the belly of the beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/warnings:  
> Nothing new folks
> 
> Beta'd by myself so who knows what's down there! We die like men!
> 
> (Check the end notes too <3)

**Report: Locations, September 9th - 15th**

**Lance McClain**

**17,500**

**Sept. 9th -** McClain leaves the residence at 5:44 PM and arrives at “The Castle” diner (pictured below) for work. Returns home at 11:10 PM.

**Sept. 10th -** McClain departs residence at 5:39 AM, walks to Diner. { Interaction: Investigator Z. entered the restaurant to scope out location, McClain served Detective her order.} Leaves Diner at 10:24 AM with acquaintance “A” (pictured below). “A” and McClain drive to Garrison University.  { Interaction : Investigator E. accidentally exposed herself when crossing the street in front of the vehicle. A picture was taken.} Both arrive by 10:40 for classes at 11:00 AM. McClain leaves campus at 2:00 PM with acquaintance “B” (pictured below). McClain and “B” take the northbound bus to “B” residence. Acquaintance “C” arrives on location. McClain departs a 6:30 PM to return to the residence by 7:15 PM. McClain departs residence and travels by foot to the illegal gathering club “The Depths” (pictured below) proceeds to service clients. Returns to the residence by 4:25 AM

**Sept. 11th -** “A” arrived at the apartment by 3:00 PM, McClain and “A” leave at 7:03 PM and drive over to “The Castle” { Interaction : Investigator Z. was served a coffee by McClain.} McClain is dropped off at home at 10:00 PM.

**Sept 12th -** McClain leaves the apartment at 7:13 AM with acquaintance “A”. They proceed to drive to the local McDonalds, order and eat in the parking lot. They both arrive at Garrison University Campus at 10:00 AM. McClain travels back to “The Castle” with “A” at 2:24 PM. Lance returns to the residence by foot at 8:00 PM.

**Sept. 13th -** McClain departs residence at 12:02 PM, takes a bus Northbound to Garrison University. Arrives at 12:53 PM. McClain returns to the apartment at 5:01 PM with acquaintance “B” and “C”. “B” and “C” leave the residence at 9:17 PM.  Message sent at 9:26. Contents: “Payment. Saturday night. Working hours.”

**Sept. 14th -** “A” picks up McClain at 8:36 AM, they travel to Garrison University. Arrive by 8:50. 12:02 PM McClain leaves class, boards the westbound bus at 12:12 PM. Arrives at Westside Mall (new location, pictured below) by 12:44 PM. McClain enters “Coffee Shack” cafe (pictured below) and then joined by a new acquaintance - “G” (pictured below). McClain departs the mall himself at 3:25, arrives at “The Castle” at 4:40 PM. McClain returns home by 10:24 PM.

**Sept. 15th -** Daily report pending…

 

_ (See 17 attachments below)  _

  
  


Lance felt, to say the least, well rested. For the past week, Lance had managed to get some decent hours of sleep since he wasn’t slinking around The Depths all night. As the week came to an end Lance had managed to scrape together far more money than he usually would have. It was a little easing knowing that his bills were paid and he was able to put a bit of a dent in his loans. Though carrying around $1500 was starting to trip Lance out. And that ring.

Lance didn’t know why he was still so hung up on Keith’s ring. It could be nothing, an accessory. But the ring didn’t look like Keith's style. It was a bright silver and had a thick band, Lance had even noticed some crystals embedded in a pattern. Looked like a wedding ring to Lance. Not to mention the fact that it was on Keith’s left ring finger.

_ Jesus Christ, _ Lance rubbed his temples. He had spent more time thinking this over than he wanted to. It was chewing away at him. He tried to reason with himself that seeing Keith outside of the club wasn’t any different than inside. That Lance had seen and been with multiple men who were married. Why would this be different? But Lance didn’t like the idea of being on what could be considered a date with a married man. He didn’t like the idea of being a  _ homewrecker _ .

“Earth to Lance…”

Lance blinked at the hand waving in front of his face. He had been zoning out he guessed and now he had two very expectant women waiting for an answer. Allura had told Lance that her mother demanded the both of them come over to her house for some Lunch. It was probably Melenor’s way of using Alfor’s absence to her advantage. 

“Uhm, pardon?” Lance mumbled around a mouthful of caesar salad. Allura snickered at Lance’s loss of words. Mel smiled gently,

“I asked how your mother was doing.” 

Lance swallowed down his food before answering, “Oh! She’s great, doing well.”

Melenor smiled as she served herself another bowl, placing the tongs back into the saucer. “That’s good to hear. Your siblings?”

“All good!”

Mel smiled warmly again, placing her chin on her palm. “And yourself? How’s school treating you?”

Lance nodded agreeably, “Pretty good. I’m used to it all by now, the second time around is a lot easier,” Lance paused for a moment. “Well the work isn’t easier but it’s to be expected.”

“Lance made the dean’s list this year, did he mention that?” Allura chimed in, smirking as she shovelled some more salad into her mouth. Lance gave her a pointed look. She wasn’t wrong, Lance had ranked high in his program along with Pidge. But Mel was the… over dramatic type of person. 

“He did not! Lance my goodness that’s amazing!”

After several minutes of Mel dragging on about Lance’s accomplishment, they all started to clean up the table. Melenor, after separating from Alfor, bought herself a modern condo. It was northside and had a cute view. It was mostly black table top surfaces and white tile floors. According to her, it was the perfect spot, save for the fact it was so far away from Allura and Lance. But she was thriving. After helping deposit the dishes into the dishwasher Lance leaned on the counter beside Allura, who had hopped onto it. Mel started the washer on a cycle, wiping off her hands on a towel.

“So what’re you both up to tonight?”

“Homework,” Lance answered quickly. He didn’t want to bring up tonight’s events. Mel nodded slowly before casting a look towards Allura. Lance followed her gaze, eyebrows raised.

“What?” Allura chuckled, apparently knowing what they were implying.

Mel ‘humphed’ before crossing to the living room to pick a bag. “Allura is going on a date tonight.” Lance audibly choked, eyes flying open.

“You what?!” He exclaimed as he turned and jabbed Allura’s side. She yelped at the assault and covered her face. She had not told him that!

“Yup! She asked me to pick up that cute dress she’s been eyeing for a while.” Mel dropped the bag into Allura’s arms. Coyly Allura took the bag by the strings and blushed so pink you’d confuse her for a valentine’s card.

“And you didn’t tell me!” Lance scolded, feigning offence.

“I didn’t think it was going to happen! It was last second,” Allura offered.

“Right. And who is the lucky boy?”

“Don’t worry about it. I met him at the library if that helps.”

Lance gasped at Allura’s answered.  _ The audacity! _ This was very out character for Allura. She just didn’t go on dates with boys she just met and  _ didn’t _ tell Lance about it. If Lance didn’t know any better she was hiding it from him!

Mel lifted her brow, lips pursed in a smile, “He’s older.”

“Oh?” Lance gushed. Allura hid her face behind her hands.

“Tall, dark, and handsome from my understanding. Runs in the family,” Mel teased. Lance threw his head back in laughter. His sides started to hurt.

“Mom! Enough!”

Even as Lance and Allura said their goodbyes to Mel and headed towards the parked car he was still chuckling. Allura leaned over the driver’s seat and threw her bagged dress in the back. 

“I was going to tell you,” Allura turned to Lance.

“Naturally,” Lance and Allura laughed. Lance waited a moment before adding, “But is he tall, dark, and handsome?”

“Oh god!”

 

 

Lance was sprawled out on his couch his legs thrown over the arms. He was in his work clothes and his diner work clothes. He wore a yellow satin open-up top with the first few buttons undone to expose his chest. Paired with black high waisted pants that hugged his curves and his smokey eye makeup made him more than ready. But he was just waiting. Watching the finale of Grey’s Anatomy season time 8 was an excellent way to pass the time before he had to leave.

_ Payment. Saturday night. Working hours. _

Working hours were anytime after midnight to the GALRA. So Lance figured that after he dropped off his payment he would swing by The Depths for a bit since he’d be in the area. It wasn’t an awful idea, just not the most forgiving. Lance fidgeted playing with his belt loop, picking away at loose threads. He just wanted the time to pass to get this over with. 

He wasn’t particularly excited about this, it wasn’t like the GALRA were welcoming. Notorious for being an unrelenting loaning company. It wasn’t Lance’s first choice, however, his student banking wouldn’t loan him enough to pay off the rest of his tuition and he did NOT want to take that much from Coran. The GALRA were sharks, and destroyed people’s financial lives… by day. By night they were downright murderous. Because of Lance’s already outstanding loan taken out legally, Lance could not legally take out a loan from another establishment. _Legally_. It didn’t take long before Lance was pushed towards the GALRA’s after hours, _under_ _the table,_ business. Lance had been lucky so far, never landing in hot water with the sharks but he could be dangerously close. So he played it safe. Answered when they called, arrived when they said to and paid what he thought they thought was acceptable.

Draping his trench coat over his body in a way that he had grown too familiar with, Lance headed out for the night.

  
  


Lance briskly walked around the corner keeping his pace steady and straightforward.  _ Over and done with. In and out _ . No matter how many times Lance walked through “bad” parts of the town at ungodly hours it never got any more comfortable. It was unsettling, to say the least, how active these areas could be. At a surface level, it was dead night, the occasional drifter. But walking through a few blocks you’d be able to spot the occasional interaction, car slowly driving by, the druggies tweaking about. But every once a while Lance would spot someone like himself. Of course, he would never know someone’s intention but when he’d pass some person tightly wrapped in a jacket practically sprinting home he couldn’t but think,  _ me too _ .

Finally arriving on location was not as relieving as Lance wanted it to be. The location Lance had to come to know was the basement of an apartment building. Yes, it was sketchy as fuck. Lance pulled open the door to the small front lobby of an apartment. It consisted of a door directly in front of the other, heavily locked, only to be opened by a key card or if someone on the other side buzzed it open. To the right was a maintenance window that had a ‘closed’ sign up. Lance had a sneaking suspicion that it was never open. Besides the buzzing from the dying overhead light and crushed Pepsi can in the corner the room was void of anything else.

Lance stepped inside heading towards the call panel. The second last button on the right column was greyed out from repetitive use. Lance unflexed his fingers from inside his jacket, the chill still manage to chew at his hands. Lance pushed the call button and held in for 5 seconds, the low grainy buzz filling the room. After a long silence, the call button responded indicated by a green flashing light above the box. It had only made the faintest noise, no one on the other side spoke and neither did Lance. Just a  soft hum. After another even five seconds the humming stopped, the room was still quiet. Promptly Lance pushed the call button four more times. 3 in bursts and the 4th an elongated call. Almost immediately the door rang out an irritating ring indicating the door was unlocked. Now with access to the building, Lance descended the stairs to  what felt like his doom.

The sketchiest part of this illegal loaning business in an apartment basement was that it didn’t look at all like it. It was dark and dim but there were furniture and tables. The carpeted floors were oddly clean and the walls were spotless. It didn’t even smell weird. It could indeed be passed off as an actual regular business. The few bodies in the room either didn’t acknowledge or care about Lance’s arrival. A girl, slender and dressed in what could be considered gym clothes was sat next to another woman. She was dressed in rather dark clothes and her hijab framed her face; she seemed content on listening to whatever her friend was explaining to her. Briefly, they looked up and glanced at Lance before immediately looking back down at the papers on the table. 

Another man, shorter and stalkier, stood by the door right next to where Lance had entered. He was the one who most likely buzzed Lance. Lance cleared his throat,

“Uh- McClain…”

The man dragged his gaze over Lance, sizing him up. Him a resigned look he motioned down a hall,

“You know where.”

Lance did know. He walked down one of the halls in this lobby. There was three. One, where Lance was heading, contained many doors which Lance assumed lead to offices. The other Lance had never been down and the other looked to be a fire escape. But down this hall, Lance was heading towards the very end office. As he approached the door it swung open. Someone, who Lance could not see very well, stocked out past him. There broad shoulders and tall build causing Lance to press up against the wall. Lance watched their retreating figure as they exited back into the Lobby.  _ Busy much? _

“Ah, McClain.”

Lance snapped his head back to the door. There standing in the frame was the man he came to see in all his glory. Leaning on the frame he looked slightly out of place compared to everyone else. His tall figure, dark turtleneck, and long hair were deceivingly welcoming. Lotor batted his eyes, “I was expecting you. Come in.”

Lance followed behind Lotor into his office, wincing the slightest when he heard the door shut. The office, like everywhere else, was dark and had only a desk with a few chairs from across. There was a potted plant in the far corner that Lance didn’t bother to figure out if it was artificial or not.  Lotor emerged from behind Lance and crossed to his desk gesturing to the seat across from him with a ‘Have a seat’. Lance sat nervously, swallowing it down hoping he didn’t look it. He waited. Waited to be addressed. Lotor, on the other hand, looked passive and calm. He reached around his desk rifling through some files before placing some back into a drawer. “You never disappoint…” Lotor paused a moment, clearly searching for a file, and then lifted one out. “- Lance.” He didn’t remember his name, Lance would take that as a good thing.

Lance reached into the inside pocket of his trench coat and felt for the envelope there. Producing it he quickly handed it to Lotor, who took it with a beaming smile. His gracefulness was so unsettling it sent shivers up Lance’s spine. Lotor inspected the envelope, brows raising at the number written across the front.  _ 1,500 _ . Lance watched as Lotor methodically counted over the money. Lance knew that the full amount was in there but it still made him antsy watching it get picked apart. Gently Lotor placed the envelope down trading it for a pen to start writing down in a file.

“That’s a lot more than usual,” Lotor remarked not looking up from the papers. There wasn’t anything even condescending about what he said but still put Lance on edge. Lance hummed a response not knowing exactly what to say. Lotor took a few more moments, marking things down. In a fluid moment, Lotor reached over to the paging system to his right pressing a button down. Lotor leaned back, “It’s a slow night. This will be quick.” He leaned back in his seat, smile engraving across his face. Lance squirmed.  _ I hope it is! _ Lance awkwardly laughed with a brief nod.

After a few moments of pure silence the door slowly opened, the only indication was the sound of the heater running in the hall. Lance only realized how quiet the room was then. A woman entered not sticking out any more than anyone else in the building. Her fit build, shortcut hair, and passive expression made her blend in and made her all the more menacing. She passed by Lance, not even bothering to look his way, standing by Lotor’s side. In an exchange, Lotor handed her the envelope.

“McClain.” 

At this, the women briefly looked over Lance. She caught his gaze with an almost pensive look. She stared at Lance so hard Lance could feel a hole burning through his head. And just as quickly she left the room. Lotor filed away the documents he had taken out while standing up from his seat. “Good to see you, Lance,” Lotor affirmed as he began to head towards the door. Lance shot up at the cue to leave, quickly heading towards the door. Lotor opened the door in a sweeping motion, gesturing for Lance to leave. In a nervous moment, Lance finally made eye contact with Lotor. His stomach filled with that acid again but far worse than with Keith. He nodded and gave the briefest of smiles. 

“I’ll see you again Lance. You’ll know when.”

Lance shivered and gulped. Was that a threat?  _ Was it _ ? Lance didn’t stick around to find out. Trying to look like he wasn’t sprinting Lance quickly rushed down the hall and out of the basement. Stepping into the night air of a sketchy street was a relief, the hypnotizing aura the Lotor’s headquarters slowly breaking off.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed, consider leaving some kudos or a comment. I appreciate all criticism!
> 
> Sorry for a late update y'all. I'm trying for every 4 days but it might waver between 4 days and once weekly. But anyways, how did you feel about this? I tried to surprise you lol. There are a few more twists to come so beware. 
> 
> Also I had a few questions so I'll answer them here:
> 
> 1) Pidge's pronouns are she/her purely because I'm going off of canon. She does dress adrogynisticly because she's a bad bitch and can do whatever she wants.
> 
> 2) There will be smut later on and it will be tagged at the beginning of the chapter, so hold your horses lmaoo
> 
> (Any discourse will get a fat block, try me bitch.)


	6. Keith Vs. Hobbying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's reckless behaviour had been a cause of concern for too long. Time to patch that up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Tags/ Warnings:  
> Drinking, Excessive drinking, Fighting, Unhealthy behaviours
> 
> I beta'd myself so who knows if what it looks like down there! We die like men.
> 
> Read the end notes for more info. Hope you enjoy!!

Shiro by no means was a therapist. His Ph.D. did not cover that. But he did try his goddamn best. Keith wasn’t the best at talking; he was terrible at it. So Shiro often had to do the talking for the both of them.

“You can’t keep doing this,” Shiro sighed. Shiro had been woken up by the aggressive and unfortunately familiar ring of his phone in the early hours of the morning. Rubbing his left hand across his face as he sat up in his empty bed, reaching to his bedside table. He didn’t check the phone before unlocking it to answer.

The voice on the other end slurred out, “I’m outside.”

Which is why Shiro then had Keith sat up on the counter nursing a bloody nose.

“Keith this has got to stop.” Keith only stared back at Shiro. His eyes were half-lidded and almost were watering, as if he the tears were holding themselves back from falling. His face was flushed, red flaming around his rose where he had been struck. Keith adjusted his hold on the ice pack on his nose. “What even happened?” Shiro coaxed. Keith only hummed and closed his eyes, tilting his head to the side. Shiro followed his hold on Keith’s nose with the rag he was holding that was now covered in blood. He sighed deeply. He was lost, he didn’t know how to help Keith.

  
  


“Okay! You need a hobby.” 

  
  


Shiro was on a kick of trying to figure out a way to stop Keith’s late night ‘adventures’. Which often left him bloodied. Keith didn’t see the correlation. Shiro, on the other hand, was able to come to a few conclusions. It would be a little easier to know for sure if Keith would just  _ talk _ to him about it. But Shiro knew that Keith was drinking a bit.  _ Not awful _ . Maybe doing drugs.  _ Well… _ Got into fights.  _ Probably not the best.  _ Caused fights.  _ Probably should stop him _ . And there were probably a dozen reasons as to why he was doing all this. But the answer came to Shiro when he had placed a heavily inebriated Keith onto their bed one night.

“How you feeling bud?” Shiro questioned, adjusting the blankets around Keith. There were several groans before,

“I’m feeling nothing a lot…”

Shiro paused, hand frozen overstretched with the covers in hand. He stared down at Keith whos face was pulled down in a tight frown. Maybe Keith was mumbling through a drunken haze and it didn't mean anything. Or maybe it was all Shiro needed to know. “I know babe. I know,” Shiro agreed, rubbing circles on Keith’s back.

  
  


“A hobby?”

“Yes, a hobby. You need a distraction.” Because Keith wanted to  _ feel _ something.  _ Badly _ .

  
  


“Shiro…” Keith rumbled out in frustration.”I don’t want to do this.” Shiro looked up from where he was buttoning his shirt. So the first couple of ‘hobbies’ Shiro and Keith had tried out didn’t work out. Keith was too impatient for golfing and thought everyone on the fields was pretentious. Painting was too messy and both men weren’t really into art. Book club was shot down instantly. And so Shiro figured maybe a social setting that was more up Keith’s alley would be better. But as Keith held their tickets to a wine tasting event Shiro realized it probably wasn’t any better. Keith stood leaning on the frame of their bedroom wearing his best casual formal clothing.

“Yeah, me too,” Shiro sighed out dropping his hands from where he was buttoning up his shirt. He shook his head and looked up to Keith who wasn’t aware he was frowning. He wore his go-to semi-formal outfit: black button up, black slacks, and red tie. It suited him, but that expression was one Shiro hated to see on Keith.

“Then why are we going?” Keith walked into the room dropping the tickets on the dresser before stopping in front of Shiro. He continued buttoning Shiro’s shirt for him, eyebrows still knit together. Shiro watched as Keith’s pale hands worked each button into its respective hole.

“Because it’s a good thing for us to do.” Keith raised his brows at Shiro’s response. “Going out, socializing. Wine tasting is an average social event. It’ll be good for us.”

Keith hummed, “We’re not exactly average Shiro.”

It wasn’t like Shiro didn’t understand what Keith meant. He understood perfectly. A wine tasting was a little too suburban mom even for Shiro. But how else was Shiro going to get Keith out of the house to talk to people? As adults, it’s a little more challenging to befriend people in casual settings. You have to look for groups to join and just pray to god there was someone you tolerated in said group. It wasn’t working in their favour. Shiro gave Keith credit that he was trying. Maybe he was trying to please Shiro, but that’s all Shiro could ask for. Keith at least cared enough to try. And Shiro cared about Keith. But this wasn’t working. Maybe this wasn’t for Keith.

Shiro grabbed Keith’s wrists as he was finishing off the last few buttons. Keith looked up from where he was concentrating on the shirt. 

“Okay, how about this,” Shiro removed Keith’s hands from his shirt. He went over to the closet where he had hung up his jacket from earlier in the day then reached in the front chest pocket and pulled out his wallet. He thumbed through the wallet before removing all the money from inside. “How much do have on you?”

“Uhm… a hundred. I think,” Keith replied becoming even more confused as Shiro opened their sock drawer to fish out a few more bills from inside. Shiro folded the bills together and handed them to Keith.

“You’re going to go out and have fun,” Shiro stated matter of factly. “You will go out and find something you like to do. Go to a museum, see a movie, a sushi bar.”

“Christ, Shiro, with this much I’d think you were sending me off to bang a prostitute.” Shiro paused and gave Keith a look as if contemplating the possibility. “I’m not in the mood to catch an STI, Takashi!”

Shiro chuckled, but if he was being honest maybe Keith did need to fuck out some of the funk he’s been in. But that wasn’t the point he trying to make. “There are rules,” Shiro continued. “No fighting. Just walk away. No getting shitfaced. You can get wasted in the house on our alcohol. No drugs-”

“I don’t-” Keith interrupted. Shiro kept talking, no regard for Keith’s interjection.

“No drugs. And you have to talk to at least. one person  Questions?” Keith looked at Shiro in a vague muddled confusion. It was unlike Shiro to just come up with spontaneous ideas like this, he was more of a plan ahead type man. After closing and shutting his mouth a few times Keith grabbed the money from Shiro’s hand, planting two chaste kisses to the side of Shiro’s mouth, Keith turned and left the room. Faintly Shiro could hear the sound of the garage doors opening as Keith pulled out onto the street.

  
  


That was at 6 PM. It was now 4 AM and Shiro was seriously starting to wonder if Keith had gone and found someone to fuck. Shiro preferred that over the other ideas he had of what Keith had gotten up to. Shiro practically jumped up at the sound of the garage doors opening. He made his way down the main stairs to the first level, crossing the foyer to peer through the window that looked down into the garage. Much to his dismay, he noticed that Keith wasn’t alone, he was with a _ Keys Please _ employee, who he was now paying.  _ He’s been drinking. _ Shiro groaned to himself, he should have seen this coming. Shiro walked over to the kitchen and turned to face the entrance of the garage, prepping his best-disappointed face. Keith slowly cracked open the garage door as if to not make a sound before realizing Shiro was right in front of him.  

Keith casually shut the door behind him with a, “Hey.” The shorter man then walked into the kitchen pulling open a cabinet. He smoothly grabbed a glass and started to fill it with water from the fridge. He looked the same as he did when he left, clean and unmarked. Not to mention he was completely able to stand on his own.  _ Well he isn’t wasted and he doesn’t have a black eye; he did follow the rules _ . Keith finished off his glass in one continuous drink then rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah?”

“What’d you do?”Shiro quickly realized his grey joggers and tank top were doing very little to keep out the chill. Shiro leaned back on the island behind him, arms crossed, staring back at Keith. Keith did the same, leaning onto the counter across from Shiro. He waited a moment before answering,

“I drove for 2 hours,” Keith answered. He was staring down at the ground so he didn’t notice Shiro’s fat grin. “I didn’t know where to go. I eventually ended up at a drive-in movie theatre. It was fun and I liked it a lot- we should go together sometime. But I realized it was midnight and I hadn’t had one conversation with a person.” Keith shifted his attention over to his watch. “I drove back into town and noticed this uh… busy bar. I don’t think it was legitimate but there was plenty of people there. I only got like two drinks though. But I… started talking to this boy…” Keith reached up to scratch the back of his head. “His name was Lane.”

“Lane…” Shiro echoed.  _ Unique name. _

“Yeah, he was charging by the hour to talk to people. I did-” But Keith was interrupted by Shiro’s progressing laughter. “What?”

Shiro teased through snickers, “This whole time I thought you had taken u the offer to go bang a prostitute. Only you, Keith, would have to pay someone to talk to you.”

Keith rolled his eyes chuckling along himself. Brushing his hair out of his face Keith continued, “I just wanted to go home, but I knew you’d get mad if I didn’t at least, like,  _ try.  _ So this cute boy comes up to me and asks if I wanted to talk, I figured I’d pay him and dip in a half hour. But,” Keith paused to yawn. Upon Keith’s sudden tiredness Shiro motioned with his head for them to head upstairs. As they ascended the stairs Keith grabbed Shiro’s hips, following behind the taller man leaning his head on his back shoulders.

“But?” Shiro prompted.

“But we had a decent conversation. It felt genuine, I lost track of time even. Sure he may have been on the clock but it felt like he was talking to me like a person. You know?” Shiro nodded in agreement as he opened their bedroom door. Keith lingered on Shiro’s back still, pulling him in for a hug. Shiro let him, content in Keith’s warmth. Keith stayed there for a few moments which made Shiro wondered if Keith had drifted off. “I know he was working, like, it was a job for him, but I liked it,” Keith mumbled.

“I’m glad you did,” Shiro reassured.

“I gave him my number.” Keith broke away from Shiro, starting to undress. “I figured if he enjoyed chatting he’d messaged me. If he hates me I won’t hear from him again. I offered to get coffee sometime, but I’d pay him, it’s still his job.” Shiro had sat down on the edge of the bed listening tentatively. He smirked lightly,

“So like a date?” Keith paused midway through pulling an old t-shirt on. He thought it over for a second.

“Yeah, like a date.”

Shiro and Keith had always had what would be considered an “open” relationship. But it was a little more than that. Keith and Shiro were utterly devoted to each other. Even though neither of them cared for labels like ‘boyfriend’ or ‘husband’, their love for each other was unquestionable. Sex was never a key factor of love in their relationship. Sex was sex. Not that Shiro and Keith didn’t have  _ great _ sex, they did, it just wasn’t an exclusive thing. Did they have sex with other people? Every once in a while, not so much recently. Had they had threesomes? Definitely. Sex wasn’t love to them, they knew that the other’s love was unwavering so it never worried the other. They were  _ very  _ non-traditional. Shiro figured this wasn’t any different. Going on a coffee date with a cute boy Keith had met wasn’t the most scandalous thing Keith had done with another man.  _ If Keith is happy, why not _ . Didn’t bother Shiro because he was Keith’s and vice versa. Maybe it was their estranged pasts that made them define how their relationship the way they do but it worked for both of them.

 

“How do I look?”

Lane had responded to Keith, taking him up on the coffee date idea. Which of course left Keith a nervous mess, but he’d never admit that. He stood in front of the large mirror on the other side of the bedroom adjusting the way his shirt sat. Shiro watched from across the room, grinning as his partner squabbled for his little date. It was endearing to see Keith get ready like he was back in high school trying to impress someone. Keith caught Shiro staring at him through the reflection of the mirror. He turned on his heel to look back at the man directly. “Well?”

Shiro stepped off the platform that held their bed and side tables onto the rest of the floor. He grabbed his watch from their dresser and placed it on his left wrist, using his prosthetic hand to clasp it together. “You look great. I’m sure Lane will think so as well,” Shiro reassured with all too knowing look. Keith was undeniably nervous. Shiro finished up with his watch and then crossed the room to stand behind Keith. Keith felt a firm pressure on his chin forcing him to look up at Shiro. “You look amazing.” Shiro planted a reassuring kiss onto Keith’s lips and as he pulled away Keith followed him, he caught Shiro with another quick peck. They stayed inches from each other’s faces.

“When will you be back?”

Shiro scratched his head thinking over how much work he would have to get done. “8 maybe? 9?” Shiro offered. Keith groaned and dropped his head. 

“We’re supposed to be done at 3,” Keith pouted slightly. “I’ll just go out to the North office after I guess.”

Shiro kissed Keith’s forehead and said, “Let me know how it goes after, okay?”

  
  


Apparently, it had gone well. Really well. Keith was in a far better mood when Shiro returned home. He was in the kitchen serving some rendition of pasta without a care in the world. His normal hunched posture and resting scowl were replaced with ones of content. Which only happened when he was in a really good mood. He turned to face Shiro as he heard the garage room door open.

“Made you some dinner,” He beamed to the taller man. Shiro grabbed his plate and pulled up a stool at the kitchen’s island. He watched as Keith moved around the kitchen cleaning up because he was such a messy cooker.

“How’d it go?” Shiro probed.

“His name’s Lance,” Keith said scrunching up his nose like he did when he was thinking of a lot of things at once. “He just used Lane at the bar, but his real name is Lance.”

“Lance is a nice name.”

Shiro listened to Keith recount the details of his date. He watched as Keith excitedly went over their conversations and how they had similar interests. Or none at all. Shiro was content in just watching Keith go on about this boy, picking up on the little details so he could contribute. Like that Lance was a university student, or that he ordered his coffee with way too much sugar, or that he enjoys nature documentaries.

“Maybe you can rope him into those creepy conspiracies you watch,” Shiro added which gave him a gentle shove to the side.

 

That whole week Keith and Shiro spent talking about Keith’s dates with Lance, or what they should do next. So far it had been coffee, dinner, slam poetry (that the two ended up enjoying for the wrong reasons), ice cream (which turned out to be a bad idea since the weather was chilly), and they ended up bowling one night since the movie theatre was closed. This night, however, was at the sushi bar Keith favoured. Shiro had suggested it when he was running low on ideas. As Keith hopped out of the car he turned back to Shiro who was leaning across the passenger's side door to kiss him.

“I wish you could come,” Keith said. It wasn’t like he was trying to mean anything by it, it was just him thinking out loud. Shiro ruffled Keith’s hair.

“I’ll pick you up at 9 and then we’ll head over to the offices.”

  
  


Shiro was happy that Keith was happy. He hadn’t seen Keith this excited to go out and do something in… forever. It was refreshing to have something new to talk about with his partner. And who knows maybe Keith will pick up some actual hobbies from this kid. Maybe Keith would surprise him. Like he just did as he got back into the car after his date.

“I want you to meet Lance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed consider leaving some kudos or a comment if you'd like!
> 
> Ahhh here's some Shiro! I know some of y'all were antsy to see him. If you have any questions about anything so far feel free to ask! Especially about Keith or Shiro's relationship dynamic, I'm trying my best to depict the concept of a healthy open commited relationship.
> 
> Also if you want to interact on tumblr here's my page,  
> http://idreamedit-sobeit.tumblr.com/  
> I don't post often but I'm active. I'm considering orienting the page more around the fic, Shklance and anything I'm writing
> 
> Once again I appreciate all of you!
> 
> (Any discourse is gonna get a PHAT block. I'll cut y'all I stg)


	7. Curb your date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dun-dun-dun dahhh dada dah ding!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No new tags or warnings for this chapter
> 
> Barely beta'd dog
> 
> Read end of chapter notes

Lance’s week didn’t go as he expected. Not that he had expectations, but he never expected to spend the week enjoying outings. Nearly every night he was out with at some new location with Keith. It wasn’t anything exciting or new. Dinner was at this small Pizzeria in Pidge’s area. It lit up the street from a block away, a vibrant yellow illuminating the street. Keith and Lance walked side by side to the Pizzeria chatting lightly.

“You been here before?” Keith asked, pulling open the front door.

“I haven’t, but I’ve passed by it before. Always smells nice,” Lance fondly reminisce over memories of passing the pizza shop with Pidge and the briefly worried if he would run into her.  _ Probably not. _

The smell of delicious bread and doughs filled Lance’s nostrils and warmed his body. The pizzeria itself reflected the scents. It was spacious and looked far bigger on the inside. There was already a number of customers already dining but there were plenty of seats available. The two were seated at a cozy table closer to the bar around the ovens. 

The date itself wasn’t anything extraordinary, consisting of light banter and semi-heated arguments about pineapples on pizza. Despite the casual atmosphere of the night Lance couldn’t help but feel… smitten. Perhaps it was the fact that Lance was enjoying a nice dinner instead cramping for tests or sitting in some shitty bar pretending to eye fuck someone. But there was something about being taken out to these places, something about being treated that satisfied some part of Lance. Even if he tried to insist on splitting the bill there was a piece of Lance’s heart that got warmed every time Keith waved him off. He didn’t mind being spoiled, and he didn’t mind the numbers in his bank account.

The poetry slam the two had gone to was entertaining to watch. The both of them had found a corner of the back the room where they could snicker without being noticed. The ice cream was cold but delicious. Then bowling after they discovered the movie theatre was closed on Thursday nights.

 

The bowling alley was one of those tackier ones with black lights shining down everywhere. They reflected off of Keith’s hair that left Lance entranced. Could Keith look any better? His outfit, which was mostly dark in Keith style was a little different than usual. He was sporting a new bomber jacket that Lance had purposely pointed out looked ‘so good’ on him. Keith sent the ball into the gutter with a loud thump. Lance winced wondering if there was now a dent in the floor. 

“We should have gotten the guards,” Lance teased as Keith walked back. Keith plopped down into the leather booth across from Lance picking up an onion ring from their shared plate. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Keith quipped munching on the onion ring. Lance turned to leave the booth looking over his shoulder.

“Actually getting some points,” Lance instantly regretted looking back as he was given a painful reminder. The quick flash of silver and the smallest glint.  _ That goddamn ring _ . Lance winced internally as he walked over to the ball return.

“Not all of us have aim like you,” Keith threw back to Lance. Lance blew a quick kiss over his shoulder before turning back to the lane.  _ You really shouldn’t be here _ . Despite being off-put by Keith’s engagement ring on the first date Lance still found himself enjoying Keith’s company. Every night he left feeling heavy with guilt but anticipating the next off-put night even more.

_ Strike! _

But Lance couldn’t do this anymore, his conscious was too clouded from it all. But who was he to pass judgement onto Keith? Was that even a wedding ring? Who was Lance to pass judgement on Keith when he was the one letting it happen?  _ I know about it and I’m letting it happen _ .

_ Zero! Gutterball! _

“What happened?” Keith probed. Lance shrugged as he sat back down at the booth. 

“Giving you a chance,” Lance smirked. Keith chuckled sitting back entirely in his seat. 

“You’re going down,” Keith challenged, “You busy tomorrow night?” Lance’s grip tightened on his knees, knuckles turning white.  _ Yes, you are. Tell him you’re busy and never talk to him again. Don’t be a homewrecker. _

“Nope!” _ Idiota! _

“Cool, wanna do sushi? There’s this new place I want to check out and I’m heading out of town for a bit. Figured we’d check it out before I left,” Keith paused to finish off his onion rings. ‘ _ We’d check it out’. ‘We’d’. “ _ We can do dinner, get a few drinks a-”

“Oh, I can’t drink,” Lance interjected at the idea. Should probably tell him now. “I’m not legal yet.” Keith’s eyes widened for a moment,

“You’re not… like under 18. Right?”

“No! I’m 19! Don’t worry, I’m very much an adult,” Lance choked on his drink at Keith’s sudden concern. Which made his stomach turn slightly.  _ Has that happened before? _

“But weren’t you drinking at the bar?” Keith cocked an eyebrow at the other man. Lance readjusted himself, pretending to brush the dust off himself.

“We’ve all got our tricks,” Lance lilted. Keith snorted at that. He stood up to grab his ball from the return rack.

“Right. No drinks, just sushi,” Keith noted to himself. “Prepare to have your ass handed to you, McClain.”

Lance won that night. 

  
  


Pidge sat across from Lance, her legs crossed over the others. She had pulled her hair up top with a scrunchie so it looked like a pineapple. Her brows were knit together in her telltale concentration face. It also resembled her scowl or resting bitch face, which for Pidge was her face a good portion of the time. She traced her highlighter across the page leaving a trail of fluorescent yellow on her textbook. She then wrote some type of question across the bottom of her already. She hastily shoved the paper into Lance’s hands.

“Boom. Go to town,” Pidge remarked. The two were sat down in her room, papers strewn across the room. Lance sat across from Pidge leaned up against the foot off her bed. The whole class had not done so well on the last quiz including Lance and Pidge. Pidge had dragged Lance back to her house grumbling that it wasn’t her fault the teacher was incompetent. He was staring absentmindedly for most of the day. Pidge was in too much of a pissy mood to notice. Lance indifferently reviewed over Pidge’s mini-test as his eyes glazed over. Pidge groaned tossing her phone away from herself. She collapsed onto the floor behind with more angry noises.

“Problem?” Lance inquired around the pen in his mouth.

“Matt cancelled...” Pidge huffed, “...again.” Pidge tilted her head towards Lance observing his page. She kicked him gently, “Get to work.” Lance nodded briefly starting to drag his pen across the slightly crumpled paper. “Can you believe that you’ve been over to my house how many times, and you only met him, like, once?” Pidge sat up again lips turned downward.

“Work again?” Lance pressed. He scratched his forehead mulling over a particularly tough question.

“Yup.” Pidge pushed herself off the ground stretching her limbs out. She hopped up onto her couch and started fishing around on the shelves. They were littered with odd trinkets, completed Rubik's cubes, and many pokemon figurines so it was impossible to know what she was looking for. 

“We studied this?” Lance mumbled to himself. Pidge looked over her shoulder to give him a nod and eye roll. She eventually produced a deck of cue cards from the back of the shelf and jumped off the couch. “Here,” Lance hummed extending the completed page back to Pidge.

“Cue card these...” Pidge paused to grab a discarded textbook. “Terms from this section,” Pidge continued, She fished out her favourite red pen to mark over Lance’s answer. They sat in silence as they set ahead on their work. Pidge correcting answers and Lance carefully rewriting each definition on the printed lines. Lance chewed the inside of his cheek nervously.

“Can I ask you something?” Lance didn’t look up from his cards hoping to hide any evidence on his face. Pidge only hummed in acknowledgement. “So… how do you feel about, like, uhm-” Lance blinked absently the page trying to form some type of coherent sentence. Pidge waited patiently, correcting away at Lance’s answers. “So how do feel about someone being involved with someone else who may or may not be with a different someone?

“‘Involved’?” Pidge’s head cocked to the side.

“Dating… sort of,” Lance replied right-hand twitching slighting.

“And ‘with’?” Her brow quirked slightly.

“Like, maybe engaged…” Lance winced internally at how it sounded being said out loud. Pidge finally lifted her eyes off the page and Lance refused to meet them.

“Asking for a friend?” Pidge’s eyes pierced through Lance and used her hawk-like senses to read him. Lance bobbed his head in agreement to eagerly. Pidge sighed deeply, shifting her position on the floor. She leaned back onto her arms looking up to the ceiling. “Does this first person know?” Lance nodded again, slower this time. “Well, it obviously isn’t good. This final person is the ‘victim’ in case,” Pidge put it bluntly. Lance did cringe this time,  _ this is why you asked her. _ “Assuming the two aren’t sleeping together is and just dating, as you put, is also not helping them. For most couples fucking somebody else is the line. It’s considered breaking their mutual trust, you know,” Her pen was tapping a rhythmless beat on her knee. “So in a way  _ not _ having sex is worse. Like why is that person engaged if they're emotionally engrossed with someone else.”

_ Ouch. _

“So… what to do?” Lance glanced up at Pidge, a pang of guilt already shooting through his body. 

“So obviously the cheater is scum. They need to fuck off,” Pidge’s head swayed from side to side as she contemplating some thoughts. “But I suppose they are already cheating so they don’t care about anyone. They’re already in the wrong and they don’t care. But that first person, if they do know, they’re not any better.”

The colossal lump in Lance’s throat was so significant that he would have typically made some crude joke, but he didn’t have the heart to. He swallowed down because he knew she wasn’t wrong. 

“If Matt was here he’d give you better advice than I could.”

“It was just a hypothetical,” Lance interjected but the softness in his voice gave him away. Lance was completely aware of Pidge’s lingering stare. She picked up her pen once again, “Get to work. You fucked up this test.

 

Lance’s guilt had eaten him alive and sucked up all of his normal charm. He stared blankly out the bus window watching as cracked and overgrown sidewalks become neatly paved roads and clean streets. Usually, he’d wait with his music in and have butterflies fluttering around his stomach. But instead, it was a silent ride filled with the absolute worse bubbling acid in his stomach.

Pidge’s advice, much like herself, were blunt. The rung through Lance’s head and burned their way behind his eyelids.  _ ‘They’re not any better’ _ . Lance exhaled through his nose closing opening his eyes. He asked Pidge  _ because _ she was honest and it’s what he needed to hear. Allura, on the other hand, had a habit of sugar coating shit.

“Well, the other person was probably put in a situation they didn’t want to be in. They don’t want to be part of that,” Allura had offered, her naivety comforted Lance. “But they should break things off,” she added. 

Lance mulled over each of those sentences. It wasn’t like he knew what he was getting himself into. He would have never texted Keith if he knew he had a partner.  _ Partner…  _ Husband? Fiancee? Boyfriend? He had no clue, just a ring.  _ It could just be a ring _ .  Lance thought it over a moment because other than a ring he had no other proof that Keith had a partner. 

He reached and pulled the bell to alert the bus driver that this was his stop. As he neared the back exit door he tried to give everything the benefit of the doubt. The bus slowed to a stop and Lance stepped out with a quick ‘Thank You’ to the driver. Lance took in the surroundings with new eyes. The area was closer to the edge of the city so the streets weren’t bustling. That being said Lance could spot the Sushi Bar from down the street. It was bust and buzzing with life.  _ Must be a favourite amongst the upper class. _ Lance started his trek down the street up the street.

Lance reviewed over his plan of attack. Tonight was make or break. He didn’t want to the problem in someone’s relationship. He didn’t want to be a homewrecker. To Keith, he was nothing more than chopped liver that he could take out to dinner. 

But deep down Lance wished for the best. He wished that ring was nothing more than a ring and that Keith was not a scummy person. Because as weird as it was to Lance he enjoyed being wined and dined. And even though Lance knew better he had to admit that he did enjoy spending time with Keith. He enjoyed the long-haired (that was sometimes greasy) man and their conversations. Just as soon as Lance thought he’d figured out Keith’s rough and slightly edgy personality, his awkwardness would bubble out and make Lance interested all over again. The memory of Keith’s laugh and smile washed away all of Lance’s guilt. Truthfully Lance would be devastated if this would be the last time. So Lance came to a decision.  _ Just ask him about the ring. _

Lance had a good feeling about this because although he would never know for sure, Keith did not seem like the type of person to do all of  _ that _ . He treated Lance too nicely, too much like a gentleman, to be that much of a  _ scumbag _ . By the time Lance had made it to the crosswalk he felt far more reassured, his chin raised and a small smile pulling at his lips. With lifted spirits, he waited as a car passed by. Looking both ways Lance stepped onto the street only to be stopped dead in his tracks like a deer in headlights. His stomach plummeted below the ground.

Keith was stood outside a black BMW leaning, into the passenger's side, lip to lip with another man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hhahaha so sorry for the tiny hiatus. Had a bit of school work and junk going on. I went to a leadership conference and had an audition so I've been cramped. Student Council has been whipping my ass so my apologies if I go MIA again.
> 
> Here's your healthy dosage of Pidge in this chapter, everyone needs a bit.
> 
> Consider leaving a kudo or a comment if you're into that, I appreciate all criticism!
> 
> (Any discourse will get a fat block, try me bitch)


	8. Setting the Record Straight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance decides to go through with the date but he cannot bite his tongue all night long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY!  
> Sorry for the almost 2 month long wait. I was very ambitious with the new chapter every week. I'm hoping for every two weeks. I'm pumping out a few chapters for the exam season. Also I'm going back and editing some previous chapters because holy fuck I am stupid and didn't catch the most obvious mistakes lol. Once again I'm sorry! I hope you enjoy!
> 
> I beta'd this myself so I'm very sorry (PLEASE READ END OF CHAPTER NOTES)
> 
> Tags/TW:  
> Nothing new!

_ Uhhh, what the fuck? _

_ What. The. Fuck? _

Lance blinked dumbly for an undetermined amount of moments. His blood running straight to freezing, shooting ice through his veins. Lance watched as Keith shut the door to the BMW with a hefty slam. Keith gave a wave to the other man in the vehicle and watched as the car pulled away. He stayed there until the car was out of sight then turned to enter the restaurant. Even when Keith and the car where gone Lance didn’t bother to move. He just stood there cycling through all the shit that just happened. 

_ Married. So married. So fucking married.  _

Lance’s hands balled into tight fists at his side slightly shaking. The acid feeling Lance had felt so many times before was nothing compared to the heat he felt throughout his entire body. It clouded his head and in a weak moment, Lance thought,  _ how could he?  _ His rage paused for a moment as he shoved aside what he feared was jealousy. Betrayal. Betrayal was better. 

Lance’s grip on his phone tightened and his read the clock’s digits contemplating if it was even worth going in because standing Keith up seemed pretty appealing. As he mulled over the bus schedule he reminded himself of one crucial thing.  _ The money _ . Lance had raked in quite a few zeros from Keith, so even though Lance may not be damaged by missing out on tonight, he didn’t want to risk angering Keith. What if Lance did stand him up and then he demanded that Lance return all the money. Lance shifted uncomfortably from the chill of the night and let out a small whine. He had just paid off some serious debts and he didn’t feel like opening a new one with Keith. Lance’s phone shook in his hands as a notification popped onto the screen.

**keith:** hey im seated rn, be here soon?

Lance audibly groaned throwing his head back. How in the fuck was he supposed to do this? Go in there and bat his long lashes as if he didn’t just watch Keith break his vow. Defeatedly, Lance shoved his hands into his pockets and finally crossed the street to the restaurant.

* * *

 

The main floor was lively with diners and severs fleeting around. The room was wide but was filled with many tables and seats so it appeared a bit cramped. Blue lighting from above made it hard to make out figures at a distance and the loud chatter of the guests made it so Lance almost didn’t hear the hostess greet him.

“How may I help you?” She pulled Lance’s gaze from the dining room.

“Uh- I’m here on a date,” Lance answered. “They’re already seated.” 

“Your name?” She said leafing through book pages on her podium.

“Lance McClain,” Lance wondered how his name would even end up there.

“With Mr.Kogane?” She asked lifting her brow.

“Yup.” Lance followed as the hostess weaved her way through the main dining sections. He observed all the diners as they smacked down their sushi. It was a mixed crowd of romantic dates, elderly parents and their kids, and colleagues. The tables had a blue marble finish top paired with the sleek white chairs that gave the place a modern vibe. As the two finally passed through an entrance way the made it to a hall where servers were popping in and out of various sliding doors.

“You two are seated in section ‘C’ for the evening,” The Hostess slid open a large door to her right that surely said ‘C’ engrained above. The room behind the door was very similar to the last. Same seating, layout and lighting but it was the slightest bit smaller. Lance spotted Keith instantly and felt his jaw tighten. Keith, who was sitting by himself at a table in the center of the room, was wearing black slacks and a pair of dress shoes. He wore a staple leather jacket that was a slimmer and better fit than his normal worn out one. It exposed a patterned dress shirt underneath that made him look  _ so  _ good it pissed Lance off.

“I’ll leave you two here, you’re a server for the night will be here shortly.” The hostess gave a quick nod and then left the room again. Lance slowly dragged his chair out of its spot making it a point to not make eye contact. 

“Hey,” Keith acknowledged Lance right away, left hand propping up his jaw. Lance gave him a curt nod in return. Lance, for once, didn’t feel underdressed on a date, he had opted for a deep blue turtleneck and a pair of casual pair of beige pants. As he slid off his new jacket (that he would be returning and cashing in on after this date) Keith looked him up down.

“You look really good tonight,” Keith smirked. Lance gave a forced smile.

“Thank you.”

“Where’d you get that? It suits you.”

They talked like that for a while, just small talk, Lance barely contributing anything. Keith hadn’t noticed Lance’s disinterest at first but he picked up on his atypical mood. His questions started to gear towards Lance in particular.

“How was your day?” Keith asked as picked up his water.

“Good… good.” Lance busied himself with the hems of his shirt.

“You sure?” Keith probed lightly. Lance didn’t get the opportunity to respond as a blonde with a sharp bob cut approached the table. She was perky and bubbly and had lipstick was probably too bright of a red to be wearing to work.

“Have you guys had the opportunity to look over the menu?” She asked notepad and pen in hand. Lance looked away passively so Keith cleared his throat.

“Yes, I think we’re… going to go for the chef’s platter, please,” Keith answered. He peered over to Lance to see if he wanted anything else but Lance pointedly ignored him. The waitress scribbled down the order.

“Okay, one chef’s platter. Any drinks? A glass each or a bottle for the table?” She asked not looking up from her scribbling. Lance perked up, inserting himself in the conversation.

“I can’t drink,” Lance announced, “I’m underage.”

“Ah, okay can-”

“He can though,” Lance gestured across the table. “He’s older than me.” Lance’s sneering had not gone unnoticed by Keith.

“Right… what can I get for you to drink, sir?” The server cautiously asked.

“I’m fine with just the water. Thank you.”

The server snapped her notepad closed before leaving their tableside. She quickly made her way across the room to her other tables. Keith sat back in his chair eyeing Lance trying to read the situation.

“Are you okay?” Keith questioned. Lance only nodded staring off to other parts of the room. “You sure?”

“Yes!” Lance snapped. He exhaled deeply. “I am fine.”

“Right.” Their conversation stalled after that. Neither talking for a few moments, just sitting in silence surrounded by the chatter from the people around him. Keith sat back in his seat looking like a kicked puppy.  _ How dare he _ . Lance decided that sitting in this awkward tenseness too unbearable.

“How was your day?” Lance mumbled. Keith flicked his eyes up to the other man across from him suddenly engaged.

“Good,” Keith hesitated.

“Tell me about it,” Lance figured if he could get Keith to do most of the talking the night would be somewhat bearable. Keith went on about how something weird had happened at work, that he watched a car crash happen two lanes away from him, and how he had to be a witness for some dude’s insurance. Or at least that’s as much as Lance bothered to understand as he wasn’t paying attention at all. Briefly, Lance felt an odd sense of guilt as he realized that he was doing precisely what he did to his other clients to Keith. Sitting pretty and listening.  _ Fuck them too,  _ Lance thought. Keith was cheating and he deserves no better treatment than them. Lance had managed to coast the conversation long enough for their food to arrive. The server had returned with a wooden platter covered in various types of sushi and nigiri.

“The Chef’s platter,” The waitress gently placed the board down onto the center of the table followed by two sets of sleek black chopsticks. “Just call me over if you need anything else.”

Keith picked up his chopsticks and snapped them apart unevenly. He dug in right away picking up the different types of lightly coloured fish. Lance only picked away at the board. Once again they fell into the chat where Lance only nodded and said the occasional affirmation. But the longer it went on the longer Lance could feel it brew inside him, the burning question he just had to ask. It festered and bubbled all over. Lance wasn’t even sure what Keith was saying as he cut him off,

“Are you married?” Lance blurted out. Keith, honest to god, choked on his food. He coughed for a few seconds clearing his throat.

“What?” Keith stuttered out, drinking some water.

“Are you married?”

“Lance, do I seem like the traditional type to you?” Both of Keith’s eyebrows were lifted as if Lance had just asked him if he was an alien species.

“You have a ring,” Lance gritted. Keith glanced down at the silver band observing it lightly. He gently ran his thumb over it as if he had forgotten he even had it.  _ Skeeze bag. _

“I’m not. It’s not a wedding ring…” Keith looked distant. Lance’s fingers tightened on his chopsticks, his knuckles whitening.

“You’re not married? Not someone’s husband?” Lance fumed unbeknownst to Keith.

“Uhm, no. Not that I’m aware of,” Keith chuckled awkwardly. So, Keith supposedly wasn’t married. But that did not change the fact that Lance had  _ seen _ him kissing another man.  _ Well.. we aren’t ‘exclusive’ _ . It was true that Lance and Keith were not in any committed relationship, however, what about the other person? Lance doubted he was a fling or another one of Keith’s sugar babies, or whatever, considering he drove and dropped Keith off. “I do have a partner though.”

“Huh?”

“I have a partner, you know. Boyfriend, significant other,” Keith added. Lance sat back numbly. It was one thing to lie about it or hide it, but to have it so open now? Lance felt dirty. Dirty beyond belief, did Keith expect him to be okay with that?

“I need to use the washroom,” Lance abruptly sat up snatching his phone from the table. As he left he could barely hear Keith ask,

“Lance?”

Lance all but sprinted to the hallway slightly skittish. He looked around aimlessly trying to find the restroom.

“Can I help you?” Came a familiar voice. Their blonde server approached Lance with a pitcher of water in hand.

“Restroom?” Lance asked.

“End of the hall to the right. Are you alright, Sir?” Lance only gave her a curt nod before power walking in the other direction. He swung open the bathroom door wincing at the sudden brightness of the washroom. He crossed the linoleum tiles and leaned onto the marble tops then whipped out his phone. He hit the button of one of the very few people he had on speed dial.

“Hello?” Allura’s chipper voice crackled through the phone. Lance out a small sigh in relief.

“‘Lura are you busy right now?” Lance scratched his forehead hoping he wasn’t interrupting her.

“Not particularly. What’s up?”

“I’m on a date… I don’t think it’s going so well-”

“Are you safe right now?” Allura’s tone dropped instantly concern lacing her voice.

“Yes! I just don’t think I- I ‘click’ with this guy. I just need an exc-”

“I’m on my way right now, send me your location,” Allura instructed and Lance could hear the faint sound of her keys jingling.

“You’re the best.”

“You would do it for me in a heartbeat.” With a quick exchange of goodbyes, Lance hung up. He texted the restaurant’s address to Allura then fumbled to pocket his phone. This was it. This is where he gives Keith some cheap excuse to dip early, block his number and  _ never _ see him again. Lance picked up his head and boldly walked back to his table. If he was going to do this he’d have to do it right. As he slid open the door for section ‘C’ Lance wondered if he’d ever be able to find out who this other man was.  _ I could tell him _ . Keith was sat at the table bouncing his leg rapidly. He didn’t get the chance to say anything before Lance started to collect his things.

“I have to cut things short tonight,” Lance grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair.

“Is everything okay?” Keith questioned which Lance ignored.

“My ride is on the way,” Lance stated matter of factly turning to leave. “Sorry.”

“Lance, are you okay?” 

“Are  _ you? _ ” Lance growled back at Keith with the iciest glare. He stomped out of the restaurant as quickly as could knowing damn well he was causing a scene. He weaved through busy area of the main floor narrowly avoiding the close tables. He pushed open the two big doors ignoring the ‘have a good night’ the hostess offered.  Lance’s eyes adjusted from the artificial mood lighting inside to the pale moonlit outdoors. 

**lulura:** be there in 20

“Fuck,” Lance huffed.

Although it was significantly darker outside everything was clearer, crisper, Lance was able to make out all his surroundings. The parking lot in the front was full and spacious and Lance assumed the cars went all the way to the backspaces. Several stoned paths from different areas of the parking lot lead back to the front space of the restaurant. Lance leaned onto the wooden black walls of the restaurant a few feet away from the entrance figuring he would just wait for Allura to get there. It was freezing now and Lance cursed himself for not wearing his winter jacket. Standing still wasn’t any better.

Lance waited there in the silence for what he assumed was five minutes or more. The only sounds were his breathing and the occasional cricket. Other nightly ambience erupted like a car passing or the sounds of chatter from a passerby. The cold air filled his lungs and exhaled into cloudy puffs in front of him. Lance closed his eyes taking in the relaxing atmosphere that was so calming in comparison to the cramped restaurant.

Lance didn’t bother to open them as he heard the doors to the restaurant open again, the sound of several people’s laughter filled the night. They continued their conversation all the way to their parked car, voices echoing throughout the lot. Lance picked up on approaching footsteps, shoes crushing smaller gravelly stones, that came to stop a few feet away from him. Only then did Lance open his eyes. Keith stood a distance away from Lance, takeout box in hand with two mints carefully balanced on top.

“I thought you might have wanted what’s left,” Keith made a gesture with the box his voice had a tentative tone. Lance stared at the box but made no effort to take it from Keith.

“No thanks,” Lance acknowledged Keith without looking directly at him. Keith shifted on his feet uncomfortably.

“I would have waited out here with you, it’s late.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! I am fine!” Lance raised his voice anger starting to stir again. In the short amount of time, Lance had gotten to know him he had learned that Keith could be quite receptive to emotion. His exterior may have been calm, collected, and kind of broody but given the right circumstance, Keith could be a firecracker of emotion bouncing Lance’s emotions right back at him. 

“So what’s the problem?” Keith’s voice also began to rise. “Because you sure aren’t acting like yourself!” 

“Go home Keith,” Lance growled. He wanted him to just walk away from this, it didn’t need to be dragged out any longer than it already had been.

“No! You’re acting fucking weird!” Keith was a hair away from shouting, his anger escalating.

“Then I will.” Lance turned to walk away because he wasn’t going to stand there and have a bitching fest with Keith. A hand shot out and grabbed Lance’s wrist grip tight as a vice. Lance snapped, “Let go of me!”

“Tell me! I want to know if it was something I said! Did I fuck up?” Keith implored his eyes pleading with Lance. Lance snatched his wrist away from Keith.

“How did you not fuck up Keith? I do  _ not _ want to a homewrecker! So put  _ that  _ in your pipe and get your ‘boyfriend’ to light it!” Lance spit back at Keith and then turned to leave again. Keith didn’t reach for him again but still called out,

“What are you talking about?” 

“I’m not going to help you cheat!” Lance shot back immediately storming away.

“I’m not cheating!” Keith followed behind Lance’s retreating figure. For the second time that night Lance turned back in ager to shout at Keith.

“Do not pull that! I was suspicious the whole fucking time. The moment I saw that stupid ring. Don’t act like you didn’t just say to my face that you had a ‘partner’. Do not act like you weren’t sucking face with some older dude in the parking because I saw that,” Lance shouted back. “That is cheating Keith! I’m not going to be the ‘other woman’. Do not try to pull anymor-”

“Would you be quiet for one minute and let me explain!” Keith interrupted. Lance crossed his arms hoping it made him look more dejected than reveal how cold he was. 

“One minute.”

“Let’s make it clear that I am not cheating and you are not a homewrecker,” Keith announced. “You can’t be a homewrecker if there’s no home to wreck.”

“I-” Lance started.

“He knows,” Keith continued. “He knows all about you. He knew from the start and believe me he is more than fine with it.” There was a pregnant pause, both men panting out clouds that fogged in the cold. “His name is Shiro. He knows about what we’ve been doing,” Keith started to approach Lance his voice lowering as he noticed more people leaving the restaurant. Keith came and stood in front of Lance a few feet away, the takeout container still firmly clenched in his hands. “Shiro is my boyfriend and he is fine with me… taking you on dates. The man you saw drop me off that was Shiro and he was the one who suggested we go here actually.”

Lance let out a breathy, “Oh.” He twitched slightly under Keith’s gaze as he tried to understand everything that was unfolding. “So he’s fine with all of this?” Lance made a large circling motion between both of them.

“Yeah, it’s a long… it’s a story,” Keith answered. They stood in silence letting the nightly ambience surround them again. Keith extended the takeout container to Lance in a sort of peace treaty. Lance gingerly grabbed the container from Keith’s hands. “Would you like to meet him?” Keith ventured. Lance stared back at Keith blankly not knowing how to respond. Thankfully his guardian angel was there to save him. His favourite white Honda Jazz sped into the parking lot from the opposite entrance. Allura stuck her head out the window.

“Lance!” The girl called towards him. Lance flashed her one finger indicating he needed another second. 

“That’s my ride. You want us to meet?” Lance pressed further.

“Yeah, Shiro said it’d be nice to finally meet you. If you’re interested of course,” Keith shoved his hand into his pockets.  _ How do I even respond to this? _

“Why not,” Lance sputtered in some sort of chuckle to cut the tension. He started to walk over to Allura’s car. “I’ll text you or something…” Lance shot Keith some finger guns slowly backing away.

“Right… thanks for tonight,” Keith gave a half smile back. Both men parted ways and started to walk separate directions. Lance pulled open the car door and hopped into the leather seat.

“You okay?” Allura asked voice lace with utmost concern, she was watching Keith’s retreating figure.

Lance clipped his belt on. “Yeah, yeah. It was just a misunderstanding.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please consider leaving some kudos and leave your thoughts in a comment below! I appreciate all criticisms!
> 
> So you've probably noticed I edit everything myself, whether it be my stupid errors or the fact I mention it every chapter. So I'm looking for a beta reader! Are YOU a fic writer (preferably Voltron but I like a lot of shows so I'm down for anything)? Would you like to exchange works with each other to edit and give notes? Please message me if you are interested!
> 
> Also, I'd to chat with some peeps so hmu on Tumblr and Twitter @Idreamedit_sobeit


	9. How do you do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance finally meets the man, the myth, and the legend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW IT'S BEEN A WHILE, SORRY! READ END OF CHAPTER NOTES FOR INFO AND UPDATES
> 
> Chapter Warnings:  
> N/A  
> Removed 'slowburn' tag cause I'm a dumbass
> 
> Unbeta'd, we die like men, call out my typos

Lance sat back in his seat shifting his weight uncomfortably. His bony ass didn’t do anything to pad against the cold hard wooden bench. The bitter breeze of October ate away at the shitty green jacket he had decided was “fine” for the weather. He fumbled with his house keys aimlessly trying to busy himself in _some_ way. Although the scenic park was pretty to look at Lance was not able to focus on any of it. 

Lance had spent the better part of the last week riddled with confusion and anxiety. Because what _really_ did happen? From what Lance could understand Keith WAS in a relationship, but not married, and was also seeing Lance on the side. BUT he was NOT cheating because his… boyfriend was chill with it. Chalking it up as a miscommunication seemed quite trivial. 

After Lance had confronted Keith he spent the rest of the night continually checking his phone for any word from the other man. That is after he convinced Allura he was fine and that she should go home now. Lance rolled up onto the bed with a blanket biting at his nails. It wasn’t until 3AM that he received a text.

> **keith:** hey, sorry about tongiht I should have been forward from the start about my relationship status. I did kind of in a way lead you on to think I was single. Shiro did know the whole time though if that helps any. We’re kind of “open” i guess. Idk that feels like a bad excuse but I do mean it when I say I’m sorry. If you’re interested i’d love to see you again. And Shiro would like to meet you as well

_He has such a way with words,_ Lance snorted to himself. After working on some details Lance figured he would give them a shot. At what exactly, he wasn’t sure. They had picked the Eleanor Park downtown to meet. Something casual but out in the open. he and Keith started talking casually over the phone again in the days leading up to the meeting. Pleasant conversations that weren’t awkward to Lance’s delight. But Lance avoided bringing up the “Shiro” topic. He didn’t know what exactly could he say about it. Besides being Keith’s boyfriend he knew nothing about Shiro. So the two just chatted away the days, talking about their daily lives.

 

Then came the day of. Lance had gotten back from his morning class around 1 in the afternoon so he had just enough time to get ready. He was in the middle of applying a new clay face mask to freshen up his face when his phones tacky ringer went off. He slid into his bedroom and snatched the device off his bed where he had thrown it. Lance barely read Keith’s name as he slid to accept the call then wedged his phone between his shoulder and chin.

“Hellooo, ” Lance drawled.

“Hello, is this Lance?” Lance stopped momentarily in his tracks, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. This was not Keith; the voice was deeper and had less of a rasp. It was almost melodic. Lance quickly made sure that it was indeed Keith who called but the name still came up as **Keef.**

“Uh- yes, who is this?”

“Hi Lance, this is Shiro, ” the other man answered. Lance felt his heart plummet to his knees. _Fuck._ “Sorry to bother you, Keith is a little caught up with something right now but he wanted to make sure that you're still good for today.” Lance swallowed thickly.

“Uh, yeah…”

“Good, see you soon.” The line clicked and dead air rang through.

_Well, he sounds hot._

 

The call with Shiro rattled Lance, to say the least. It only added to the long list of things that had Lance worrying. But Lance had quickly realized that if he wanted to lead this life he would have to shove down his worries. Like he was doing right now watching as two figures approached him from the entrance of the park. He stomped on all the butterflies in his stomach.

As the couple approached Lance could feel his heart accelerate and rattle his chest. Keith looked his normal self. His signature pale skin and dark under bags, shaggy hair, and darkened clothes. Lance could tell it was him even from afar just by his saunter and the way he had shoved his fists into his jean pockets. _Was he always that short though?_ Lance stood barely an inch taller than Keith, it was noticeable and was basically non-existent when Keith wasn’t slouching. But stood next Shiro, Keith seemed significantly smaller.

Shiro was tall, towering over Keith. And Jesus Christ did this guy _lift_. His biceps were enormous, like ridiculously big. Lance only had so much time to admire them before both were stood at the front of the table picnic table. Keith dropped a white plastic bag onto the table and a satchel onto the bench.

“Hey,” Keith greeted. “This is Shiro; Shiro, this is Lance.” Keith gestured to the two men. Lance looked back over to Shiro, finally meeting the man who had occupied his thoughts the last few days. He was probably older than Keith, you could see it. Maybe it was the obvious white front piece of hair he had or his light stubble. But there was something about him, in general, that was more mature. Lance noticed the raised pink skin across the bridge of his nose and couldn’t help but wonder where it came from. _Maybe it was a birthmark._

“It’s nice to meet you, Lance.” Shiro’s warm smile wrinkled his eyes slightly. Both Keith and Shiro slid into the bench settling themselves in. “I’ve heard lots about you.” _Lots about him?_ Lance floundered for a minute. What is he supposed to say? _Nice to finally meet the man whose life I thought I was ruining for last month. I know literally nothing about you except for the fact that you’re ‘partners’ with Keith and that you know I’m his sugar baby. Did he tell you about the time I joked about giving him head in your BMW? Or did you see those photos we’ve sent each other at 2:00AM?_

Lance extended his right arm out praying it wasn’t shaking, “Nice to meet you, sir.” Lance could he feel his face heat up. _Sir? SIR?_ _You’ve done it now Lance!_ Lance glanced over to Keith, who was looking anywhere but at the disaster show, and knew that he would have the most shit-eating grin if it weren’t for the circumstances. A smooth, cool surface grasped Lance’s hand. Lance noticed that Shiro’s entire right hand was a dark grey metal, upon further inspection the metal went higher and beyond Shiro’s sleeve.

“You can call me Shiro,” Shiro said with a firm shake. He released his grip and started to sit down, motioning to Keith who followed. “I know there was some confusion… about the whole situation,” Shiro added. Lance held back the urge to outright scoff.

“You could say that.” 

There was something about how Shiro spoke that made Lance feel almost juvenile. Lance wasn’t expecting Shiro to be this different from Keith. From how he looked and dressed to how he spoke, Shiro was very distinct.

Keith ducked his head with an embarrassed smile, “Sorry about that.” 

Lance shrugged it off, “All cleared up now.” Lance paused for a moment, clearing his throat, “Mostly.” Shiro straightened up a bit glancing at Keith briefly.

“Well, I guess we should address the elephant in the room,” Shiro started to reach into the satchel Keith had dropped into between the two of them. He placed whatever it was he retrieved into his lap. “Keith isn’t the best at details-”

“Yup,” Keith interjected.

“It didn’t come as a surprise to me that you had no clue who I was. Keith and I are long term partners. We’re not married but we might as well be.” Lance nodded his head along choosing to focus on the green chipping paint of the picnic table. Keith had reached into the plastic bag he had dropped and produced a styrofoam container. Shiro continued, “To clarify I knew the whole time about you, Keith wasn’t ‘cheating’, I was fine with him seeing you.”

“He kind of prompted me to do all this in the first place,” Keith added. He had popped open the foam container and chewed away at a pile of onion rings. He offered some to Lance who only took a few. “But I am sorry about it all,” Keith waved vaguely, “That.”

“It’s no big deal, just all one big misunderstanding. No hard feelings... I guess,” Lance spoke around an onion ring.

“We’re glad to hear,” Shiro smiled at Lance. He looked over to Keith, who was hunched over onto the table eating, “I’m sure Keith wanted to ask you about something.” Keith peered up again a bit sheepishly. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Right,” Keith swept his hair out of his eyes in the slightest show of nervousness. “So Shiro is my fiance-thing and-”

“Truly honoured,” Shiro chimed in.

“ _And we’ve_ ,” Keith gestured between Lance himself. “Been seeing each other for a month.”

“You can call it dating,” Lance lightly teased, admittedly it was funny to watch Keith’s normal cool guy attitude crack apart. Keith shot back an almost glare, no malice behind it.

“Okay, we were dating. You both are…” Keith trailed off, words caught up in his mouth.

“I think Keith means that you and I are in similar places in his life.” Shiro picked up the ball for Keith.

“Right,” Lance agreed.

“I’d like for all three of us be on the same page… like together?” Lance paused just before biting into an onion ring. He watched Shiro’s face but the older man kept his focused gaze on Keith.

“So… like you and I will be dating _dating_?”

“If you’d like to call it that,” Shiro affirmed picking up a stack of papers from his lap and placed it onto the table. “Keith and I sat down to write out exactly what we'd like from a relationship with you-”

“All of us will be dating _dating_?” Lance had to stop himself from gawking,

“That’s what we had in mind,” Keith answered. “But only if you’d like.” Shiro slid a few papers across to Lance. “We thought it’d be more clear to write it all out, since I’m, y’know, bad at talking.” Lance tentatively picked up the stapled pages.

“If you want to edit or add anything you are more than welcomed to.”

“Like a contract?” Lance flipped through the pages, glancing over the print.

“There’s nothing to sign, no legal binding. This is was made so there wouldn’t be any confusion, so you know our intentions. But you can take this to your lawyer to look over.” Shiro 

“Huh,” Lance quirked a brow. There was an elongated moment of silence as Lance scanned the page. The wind picked up and shook through the trees. “I’ve never been asked out so formally,” Lance joked. This earned both a chuckle from Keith and Shiro. 

“You don’t have to make any decisions right now-”

“Yeah, you two can get to know each other. You _did_ just meet.”

Shiro continued, “Of course, but only if you’re interested.”

Lance chewed the inside of his cheek, his eyes glued to the papers even though he had stopped reading a while ago. “Why not.”

 

* * *

 

> **lance** : good morning <3
> 
> **keith:** too fucking early
> 
> **lance** : rise and shine
> 
> **keith** : youre too much of a morning person
> 
> **lance** : I take it you’re not lol
> 
> **Shiro:** He’s not, can confirm that.
> 
> **keith** : you could make it better though 
> 
> **keith:** send pics
> 
> **Shiro** : Keith
> 
> **lance:** pffft
> 
> **lance:** bet you’d love that
> 
> **keith** : wat are you wearing?
> 
> **Shiro:** Keith, it’s 8 in the morning, could you at least try to keep it in your pants?

Lance snickered to himself as he adjusted his back camera toward the staff bathroom’s mirror. He posed strategically covering up the diner logo on his shirt, snapped a quick pic, and sent it off in the group chat.

> **lance:** image attachment.jpg
> 
> **lance:** sorry to disappoint you boys, Im at work right now 
> 
> **keith** : im devastated 
> 
> **Shiro:** You look wonderful Lance.

Lance smiled down at his phone pushing open the washroom door with his shoulder. After that day in the park, the three men exchanged phone numbers and were texting regularly.

Allura brushed past Lance several plates in hand, “Lance, Coran needs you to run your tables out now.” Maybe a little _too_ regularly. Lance quickly slid his phone into his back pocket, turning to the counter entrance. 

He popped his head into the serving window, “Taking tables eight, seven, and three!” He shouted to Coran who was too busy to respond. Lance slipped the four filled plates onto his arms expertly and weaved his way around the front counter. This Wednesday was particularly busy. All the counter stools were taken and a good half of the booths were full. He deposited the plates to the respective tables with a kind, “Enjoy your meal,” when he finished delivering the largest order to table seven with four women.

“I ordered a coffee,” A monotone voice called. Lance turned back on his heel with an apologetic look.

“Oh! Sorry ‘bout that. How would you like it?” 

“Just one cream please.” The woman wore a hijab and had a pair of thick sunglasses covering her face. Lance gave her a quick smile before dashing back behind the counter to get her coffee started. Who could blame Lance for being a little distracted, he had a lot to think about. Between texting school and work, Lance had to rake over the “non-contractual relationship” proposal from Keith and Shiro. From what he was able to gather Shiro and Keith wanted the following from Lance (their wording not his):

 

  * Enter an allowance based relationship with both Keith and Shiro
  * Ideally a romantic/casual relationship between all parties (Keith, Shiro, and Lance)
  * Ideally, Lance is to spend a certain amount of time with Keith and/or Shiro per week based on what works best for all parties
  * Any activities will be agreed upon by all parties and will only be engaged in with _full_ consent by all parties
  * All parties have the right to decline an activity
  * All parties have the right to step away from the relationship at any time
  * All parties have the right to make changes to these rules with the discussion and consent from the entire party



 

Or at least that’s what Lance was able to sum up from the too in-depth paragraphs. Uncertainty ate away at him so he had privately messaged one active sugar baby from Reddit with a copy of the pages he had been given asking if she would be concerned. It had taken her a few days to reply but that morning Lance woke up to a message that said, 

> ‘If they’re willing to put it in writing take their money and run ;)’. 

Honestly, the more Lance thought about it the more he started warming up to the idea. Even if it meant he would be officially classified as a ‘sugar baby’ he didn’t care anymore. The taboo-ness was so beyond him now. No one needed to know. 

As Lance started chatting more with Shiro the more he found himself swooning over the older man. He was kind and almost stoic in a way that was enticing to Lance. Keith and Shiro were day and night. Shiro, as it turned out, was 29 which wasn’t that much older than Keith, who was 26. Lance couldn’t help but wonder why Shiro was greying that young but who was he to judge. Especially considering how fucking stunning Shiro was. After Keith had to leave last night’s facetime call Lance was able to finally get some one-on-one time with Shiro right after he had gotten out of the gym. _Blessed_. So, yeah, Shiro wasn’t that bad. And Keith was his usual charming edgy self. It was an odd combination. But Lance couldn’t help but feel drawn closer and closer to them every day.

“Lance! The coffee!” Allura shouted. Lance yelped as scalding coffee poured over onto his finger. He jumped back spilling some coffee from the pot onto the counter.

“Shit!”

 

* * *

 

**Report: Locations, September 30th - October 3rd**

**Lance McClain**

**16,700**

**Sept. 30th -** McClain departs residence 10:30 AM and arrives at Garrison University at 11:06 AM (presumably late for class). Mcclain returns to residence at 1:34 PM. McClain leaves the residence at 2:00 PM and arrives at Elanor park at 2:38 PM and heads eastwards to the park. 2:57 PM new acquaintances “D” and “E” (pictured below) approach. Lance departs with acquaintances “D” and “E” at 4:23 PM and arrives at “The Castle” at 4:55 PM. Returns to apartment at 9:43 PM.

 

**Oct. 1st -** McClain departs residence at 7:16 AM and arrives at Diner at 7:32 AM. Returns to residence at 4:25 PM.

 

**Oct. 2nd -** McClain departs residence at 7:18 AM and arrives at Diner at 7:39 AM. McClain departs Diner with acquaintance “A” at 9:43 AM. Both arrive at Garrison University at 10:03 AM. McClain returns to residence at 1:29 PM.

 

**Oct. 3rd -** McClain departs residence at 7:18 AM and arrives at Diner at 7:39 AM. McClain departs Diner with acquaintance “A” at 3:43 PM and travel to “A’’s residence (pictured below). McClain returns home at 8:25 PM.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed consider leaving a kudo or a comment. I appreciate any constructive criticism, I respond to them all! Read below for some life updates.
> 
> I'M BACK. I am so unbelievably sorry for the wait, I know a few of you have been antsy. To those who sent messages asking about my wellbeing, thank you very much it warmed my heart. SO, shortly after I posted the last chapter my laptop fucking died. Would 'turn on' but wouldn't display anything on the screen, yadda yadda ya. I couldn't afford to repair/buy a new one so I had no laptop. A lot of my classes required submitting work online (google classroom gang) so I had to do all my work via my cellphone. Which sucked. Because of this, I didn't have the energy to type up a new chapter, because it was extremely inconvenient and I was sick of my phone lol. I got a computer however and now that exams are done I'm ready to get back at it. Sorry for the months wait :( 
> 
> ALSO if you have ANY theories as to what's going to happen later in this series please comment down below. I'd love to see if anyone has picked up on some hidden major plot elements and foreshadowing. And who knows, maybe I'll be inspired. Next chapter is going to have a twist ;)
> 
> Discourse gets fucking blocked miss me with that shit


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